


You've Got Me

by AShortWalkToDelinquency



Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Alpha Gil Arroyo, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Coming Untouched, Fisting, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Omega Malcolm Bright, Oral Sex, Rimming, Shameless Smut, a/b/o dynamics, double penetration with a sex toy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:22:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 51,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25019989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AShortWalkToDelinquency/pseuds/AShortWalkToDelinquency
Summary: There's that low rumble in Gil's chest again before he bites out, "You smell... fuck, you smell like sex. Like heat."A warm static envelopes him, and Malcolm's entire body feels like it's about to give out. He stumbles his way over to the chair in front of Gil's desk and lets himself collapse into it. That can't be right. He can't smell like he's going into heat, because he'snevergone into heat. The repeated traumas of his childhood, along with the battery of prescription medications that he was placed on shortly thereafter, combined to alter the chemistry of his body so completely that it rendered him infertile. Broken.
Relationships: Gil Arroyo/Malcolm Bright
Comments: 141
Kudos: 162





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So. This started off as a smutty little one shot about Malcolm unexpectedly getting his first heat later in life, and Gil, being the wonderful Alpha that he is, helping him through it. And then it developed a bit of a case, and turned into the smuttiest (and longest) thing I've written, by far.
> 
> (The crazy amount of sex starts on chapter three/four, just in case anyone is only here for that)
> 
> Big thanks to KateSamantha for helping me through this beast, not letting me quit, and helping me find a satisfying ending. ❤

"Welcome back, man," JT gives him a smile and a quick pat on the shoulder as Malcolm walks into the conference room. "It's good to see you."

Malcolm smiles shyly up at the detective, surprised but pleased at the warm reception. He tries to let go of the surprise – the team had been nothing but supportive the last few weeks, and logically he knows they care about him, but it's still hard for him to truly believe it in his heart.

"Thanks JT. It's good to be back." He thinks it might be the most truthful statement he's ever uttered. He was going absolutely stir-crazy on his mandated leave and has been itching to get back to work for nearly a week.

Dani stands up from where she was poring over a file at the table and meets Malcolm where he's standing just inside the door, placing a gentle hand on his forearm and offering a warm smile. "Hey Bright, it's nice to have you back. You good?" 

He sees nothing but genuine concern on her face and it fills him with a warmth that he's been missing since John Watkins kidnapped him nearly a month ago. 

"I'm good. Ready to get back to it," he nods his thanks and looks to the case board, Dani following his lead in letting things return to normal, heading back to her seat at the table. "What are we working on?"

" _We've_ been working on finding a serial killer, while your skinny ass has been laying beachside in Mommy's mansion," JT says, falling back into old habits immediately which somehow makes Malcolm feel even more welcome in the room than the gentle reception he'd just received. 

JT sidesteps the pen that sails his way as Dani mutters, "Jesus, JT, don't be a dick." 

Malcolm just smiles, the warm glow lingering inside as he walks over to the case board to familiarize himself with the pertinent information. "Four victims in two weeks?" he asks after only a moment, looking to Dani for confirmation. At her nod, he continues, "Our killer is moving fast. What do we know?"

JT joins him at the board, arms crossed over his broad chest as he looks at the photos on the board with a deep-seated sadness. "As far as we can tell, the only link between all four victims is that they were Omegas. One male, three females," JT gestures to the pictures of the victims, "all ran in different social circles, no apparent links through friends, family, or workplace."

Dani picks up the brief, saying "All four vics were killed in their homes, multiple stab wounds to the abdomen."

"Were any of them bonded? Did any of them have children?" Malcolm asks, eyes darting over their pictures.

"Three of them were bonded but none of them had children. Why do you ask?" Dani questions, knowing there must be a reason for the inquiry. 

"It's just that they're all…mature?" He says it like it's a question and Dani raises an eyebrow, flipping quickly through the file. 

"They range in age from 30 to 36, they're not exactly geriatric, Bright," Dani says with a smirk.

Malcolm tilts his head in acknowledgement. "Right. But they're past their peak breeding years. I'd be willing to bet victim number three," Bright points to one of the photos, their 36 year old victim, "probably couldn't have gotten pregnant if he'd wanted to. Add to that the fact that they were killed in the privacy of their own bedrooms and the fact that the killer destroyed their wombs..." His sentence trails off as he begins reading over the crime scene reports that have been taped alongside their photos.

JT and Dani share a look but JT just shrugs and grabs his phone off the table, saying, "I'll call Gil and let him know what boy wonder is suggesting," before walking out of the room.

Malcolm's head jerks up at the statement and he turns to face Dani. "Where is Gil?"

"Meeting with the brass. There's a lot of backlash from this one," Dani says as Malcolm walks over to the chair across from her and sinks down into it. "Omegas afraid that they're gonna be next, pissed off Alphas whose protective instincts are kicking into overdrive. They called Gil in for a meeting to discuss strategy."

Malcolm nods and feels a twinge of sympathy for Gil, knowing just how much he hates the politics and bureaucracy of their higher-ups. It makes him thankful that he's only a consultant and no longer has to deal with any of that nonsense. He's about to say as much to Dani when JT hurries back in with a grim look on his face.

"Our killer just dropped another body."

Dani drops her head into her hands for a moment, uttering a curse under her breath before she pushes herself back from the table and gets to her feet, shoulders back and ready to face the crime scene. Bright chews on his lip for a second, debating if he should be going out to crime scenes yet since he hasn't actually cleared that with Gil, wavering only until JT says, "Dude, you coming?"

"Yeah," he says, deciding he'll apologize to Gil later if necessary. It's not like Gil specifically said he _couldn't_ do field work. He had told Malcolm he was welcome to come back to the office, and Malcolm's just going to assume that the crime scene is an extension of the office until he's told otherwise.

The crime scene isn't far from the precinct. True to form, the victim is in his bedroom, lying in a pool of blood with splatter marks staining the walls and ceiling. The vic's abdomen has been pierced so many times and so aggressively that it's no longer even identifiable as part of a human body.

Edrisa looks up from her perch over the body as Malcolm, Dani, and JT walk into the bedroom. "Mr. Bright! What a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect you back so soon!" Her unbridled joy at seeing Malcolm is obvious to everyone in the room. Dani covers a smirk behind her hand while JT rolls his eyes and makes his way over to the body.

"Dr. Tanaka, it's lovely to see you as well," Malcolm says truthfully. He's missed the medical examiner's bubbly personality and enthusiasm, even if things can sometimes get a little awkward with her apparent crush on him.

Before Edrisa can start off on a tangent that they need to reel her back from, JT asks, "What do we got?"

Edrisa casts one last smile to Malcolm before turning to gesture towards the body. "Our victim is 34 year old Christian Palmer. Cause of death is exsanguination resulting from penetrating trauma to the abdomen. I'd estimate he was stabbed a minimum of 30 times, but I should be able to provide a more accurate number after the autopsy."

Malcolm notices that Dani is having trouble looking at their victim and quietly walks over to her side as Edrisa continues describing her initial findings. "Are you alright?" he asks under his breath, making sure that Dani is the only one to hear him. She swallows hard and nods, moving closer to the bed.

"He was an Omega?" Dani asks Edrisa, getting down to business.

"Yes. Like the others. Though why anyone would target Omegas is beyond me." the ME answers, brows furrowing in confusion and sadness.

"Do we know if he's bonded or has children?" Malcolm asks the room in general, leaving the question open to any of the CSU techs or uniformed officers that are milling about the room.

"Background check shows that he's unbonded and has no children," a bored looking officer near the door answers. "He was a 'companion' at Shift." 

Malcolm picks up on the disapproval in the officer's voice. Shift is the premiere entertainment club for Alphas, with high end Beta and Omega companions to cater to the wealthiest of New York's Alphas.

"Did any of the other victims have any connection to Shift?" Malcolm asks, thinking that it might be a lead worth following. The overwhelming violence of these murders certainly points to an Alpha as a suspect and Shift would provide them with a substantial suspect pool, even if he can't actually imagine one of them risking their membership to do this.

"Not as far as we know," JT says, already familiar with the lives of their previous victims, "but we'll look into it."

Malcolm nods and begins to look around the room, ensuring he stays out of the way of the technicians and doesn't touch anything. He notices a prescription bottle on the night table almost immediately and leans in for a closer look. 

Before he can even read the label, Edrisa pipes up from behind him, "Heat suppressant. We also found birth control in his bathroom."

The officer at the door scoffs and rolls his eyes, muttering, "whore," under his breath quietly enough that Malcolm is sure most of the room didn't hear it. Malcolm turns to shoot a surprised look at the officer, stating, "I'm an Omega and I've been on birth control my entire adult life. Are you saying that makes me a whore, too?" It's not entirely true, since he just went off birth control along with a few of his other medications, but he decides that's neither here nor there and definitely not something he intends to get into with a stranger.

The officer – Officer Breen – shoots Malcolm a filthy look but doesn't get the chance to respond as JT is already marching up to the man, invading his personal space as he asks, "You got a problem, man?"

From where Malcolm is standing, he can see the tension in JT's shoulders as he holds himself back from hitting the man and realizes that JT heard the derogatory slur, too. Officer Breen doesn't seem to mind JT's presence up in his face, pulling himself to stand a little taller as he says, "Nope. But if you live a high risk lifestyle, it shouldn't come as a surprise when it ends like this."

Malcolm is about to point out that working as a companion at Shift is practically the opposite of high risk, the screening and security measures flying well past strict and into borderline obsessive. Anyone that even wants to step foot in the establishment is vetted long before they're granted entrance, guests and companions alike. The Alphas are also well aware that any transgressions would result in an immediate lifetime ban, which would not only hinder their entertainment options, but would also be viewed as a black mark by the rest of the club's members. And seeing as how the members are comprised of New York's elite, no one would ever risk doing something in the club that might result in their expulsion.

Before he has a chance to say any of this, though, JT simply snarls, "Get the fuck out of my crime scene."

The officer lifts a brow but just shrugs and turns to leave. "I'm just saying that this probably wouldn't have happened if he knew his place as an Omega."

Malcolm quickly steps in front of JT, holding a hand out towards the man but stopping just short of touching him, keeping JT from going after the officer. "He's not worth it." Malcolm keeps a step back from JT, watching as the man's jaw works, physically biting back his anger. It takes a few seconds but JT finally blows out a breath and relaxes his stance and Bright takes a breath of his own. It's not that he was worried JT would hurt him, he knows JT would _never_ hurt him, but he was a little concerned that JT would barrel right through him to go after the man.

"Fuckers like that shouldn't be allowed to wear the badge," JT mutters before shaking it off and turning back to their crime scene. Malcolm looks to Dani for an explanation but she just shakes her head, clearly conveying _not now_ , so he follows JT’s lead and turns his attention back to the body on the bed.

They spend the next few hours at the crime scene, digging through their victim's life, looking for anything that might lead them in the right direction to find the person that's been doing this. Unfortunately, they don't come across any solid leads to follow in their initial sweep of the house. Obviously they'll need to dig into Christian Palmer's movements, specifically over the last 24 hours, but nothing at his house raises any red flags.

They make it back to the station around lunch time and Malcolm expects to see Gil, but the man is still in meetings and, from the looks of the text he sends to the team shortly after noon, will likely be there for the rest of the day. He advises them to follow up on their lead with Shift but to tread extremely carefully. The last thing they need is pissed off ultra-elite power-players calling up the commissioner to complain about the investigation.

JT makes a lunch run to the diner down the street, deciding they'll hit up Shift after a quick bite to eat. He comes back into the conference room with a paper bag full of takeout and sets it down, pulling out the containers and handing them out around the table. "Caesar salad for Dani, turkey club for me, broth for Bright." He levels an unimpressed look at Malcolm as he passes over the small styrofoam container of broth. He also passes over a package of crackers and a small bun in saran wrap and Malcolm looks at him in confusion. "You need to eat something more substantial, dude," is all the answer he gets before JT settles into his chair and digs into his sandwich.

Malcolm manages a few spoonfuls of his broth before he carefully broaches the subject of JT's reaction at the crime scene. "So, back at Mr. Palmer's house…" He leaves the statement open-ended, hoping JT will pick up the thread without having to push for answers.

Dani studiously keeps her eyes on her salad and JT takes a moment to chew and swallow before he answers. "Guys like him don't deserve to be cops. Thinking that people only deserve protection if they're doing what society says they should be doing."

Malcolm stays quiet, allowing the man to take his time and gather his thoughts. The tension in JT's frame, the way his breathing has become a little faster, and the way Dani is looking down at her salad with a deep sadness on her face lets him know that whatever the issue is, it's deeply personal for JT.

"I had a sister," JT finally says quietly, "she was an Omega, and I loved that kid. She was smart and funny and a shit disturber in the best way." JT chuckles as he thinks back on what is obviously a treasured memory before his expression becomes somber once again. "When I enlisted, she got involved with a bad crowd. She was a good kid, she just got... lost."

Malcolm can tell that it's difficult for JT to talk about and feels honoured that the man trusts him enough to share his pain and his memories, even though he knows this story is not going to have a happy ending.

"She was murdered by a John. An Alpha that thought he didn't get what he paid for. Thought he deserved more. I was granted leave to come back for her funeral and met one of the detectives assigned to the case. Overheard him talking to his partner as he came up our walkway, said it was a waste of resources and the 'the Omega whore got what she deserved'. Cops like that. Well, they get under my skin."

Malcolm doesn't know what to say. He's having trouble believing that an officer of the law could be so cruel and cavalier about a murdered young woman. But then, didn't he just see the same thing with Officer Breen at the crime scene a couple of hours ago? Malcolm is aware that there is, unfortunately, still a not-insignificant portion of the population that believes that Omegas should be bred as soon as they present and then kept locked up and pregnant until they're no longer able to bear children.

"JT. I am so sorry," Malcolm says, shaking his head in disbelief. "Your family, and your sister, deserved so much better." Malcolm can't fathom going through losing his sister like that, let alone knowing that the officer assigned to the case didn't even care.

JT grunts and turns back to his sandwich, a clear indication that the conversation is over. They eat the rest of their lunch in silence and Malcolm even manages to eat half of the bun that JT brought for him, not failing to notice the smirk on the man's face whenever he rips a piece off and places it in his mouth.

They head to Shift as soon as they finish with lunch, but are denied admittance to move anywhere past the front lobby. The hostess at the reception desk calls the manager for them and Malcolm uses the time as they wait for her arrival to take in the surroundings. The lobby is lavishly decorated without seeming excessive, and he immediately thinks that his mother would feel quite at home here. There are three intricate glass chandeliers lighting the expansive space, along with two separate seating areas with high end furniture that's clearly not meant to be sat on.

The manager arrives, sweeping into the room in black, high-waisted slacks and pointed toe pumps that accentuate her long legs and slender form. Topped with a deep plum blouse that makes her green eyes stand out, she turns every head when she enters the room. She joins the detectives where they're standing next to one of the seating areas, Bright a few steps behind Dani and JT to give them space to conduct their investigation. Malcolm notices that the professional smile painted on her face doesn't quite reach her eyes, but there's still a kindness to the woman that somehow shines through.

"Detectives, I'm Nicole Montgomery, manager and co-owner of Shift. How may I be of service?"

"We're here about Christian Palmer, ma'am," JT states and Bright notices a slight tick of surprise on the woman's face that she conceals nearly immediately.

"Christian is one of our most valued companions. May I ask what this is about?" She phrases it like a question, but it's obvious that she expects an answer from the detectives. Bright gets a quick read, noting that her body language, though guarded, is not exhibiting any signs that she's concealing anything. 

"I'm sorry to tell you this, Miss Montgomery, but Christian was found murdered this morning." Dani says sympathetically.

Nicole's face contorts from disbelief to grief in a matter of seconds and Malcolm believes her reactions to be honest, the surprise and sadness far too genuine to be faked. 

"Have any of the patrons lately been paying Christian any special attention?" JT asks.

Nicole gives her head a shake, clearly trying to focus her attention on the questions she's being asked and not the fact that Christian is dead. "No. Not that I'm aware of."

Malcolm doesn't doubt that there is a lot that goes on within these walls that Nicole is not privy to. "Would it be possible for us to speak with some of the other companions?" Bright inquires, stepping forward to bring himself in line with the detectives. He knows that Christian's fellow companions will have much more detailed information as to the man's admirers or possible enemies.

Nicole's gaze turns to Bright and her eyes widen in surprise, sweeping slowly up and down his body, openly appraising his worth as an Omega. Her lips tick up in a small smile, and this time it does reach her eyes. "Detective…?" she asks, holding a perfectly manicured out hand towards Malcolm. 

Malcolm offers one of his blinding smiles as he reaches out to take her hand, gently correcting her assumption, "Malcolm Bright, consultant."

"Mr. Bright. It's a pleasure to meet you," she says, voice dripping with honey.

Dani and JT share a brief look that perfectly conveys their current sense of ' _what the actual fuck_?' while Nicole continues to have eyes for Bright, and Bright alone.

Malcolm feels something new simmering deep inside of him, something that leaves him flushed makes his skin tingle as it pulses through his body, but he stands his ground while remaining respectful, pushing the feeling to the back burner. He gently repeats the question as he releases the woman's hand. "If it's at all possible, we'd very much like to speak with some of the companions that Christian worked closely with."

Nicole hums noncommittally, raising a brow as she says, "I'm afraid that won't be possible without a warrant. However I'm more than happy to speak with them myself and pass along any pertinent information."

Malcolm is about to push, but Dani steps in and says, "We would appreciate that Miss Montgomery, thank you."

Nicole keeps her eyes firm on Bright as she says, "You're quite welcome." Once last appraising look and she adds, "And Mr. Bright, if you're ever looking for a career change, there is certainly a place for you here." She doesn't wait for a response, just turns on her heel and strides out of the room.

As they leave the club, Malcolm can't help but ask, "I know Gil said to tread carefully, but it seems like we barely asked any questions at all. Shouldn't we have questioned her a little more thoroughly?"

It's a short walk to the car and Dani answers as they walk, annoyed but resigned at the politics involved when questioning the rich and powerful. "Unfortunately, when dealing with an establishment like Shift, the best we can do without a warrant is to plant a seed with the owner and let the investigation run its course internally. Hopefully Miss Montgomery will discover something useful and get back to us." 

JT nods along with Dani's explanation and Malcolm realizes this is not their first time dealing with the power players of New York City. He sighs as he slips into the backseat of the car, frustrated with their lack of progress in the interview. 

"I think Miss Montgomery might get back to us just to talk to Bright," JT quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Think you got yourself a new fan, dude."

"It's her job to seek out new recruits," Malcolm says lightly.

"Oh, yeah?" Dani asks, turning to face Malcolm from the passenger seat. "JT and I are both Betas but she didn't extend us a job offer."

Malcolm smiles and shakes his head, a light blush sweeping his cheeks. He can't deny that Nicole had clearly been attracted to him. The way she looked at him was almost predatory, like she'd wanted to claim him. He'd be more than willing to exploit that attraction for another conversation with her if it meant that they might gain access to more information, but he knows he definitely has to run that by Gil first. "Yes, well I do fit the profile for a stereotypical Omega and a sizable part of her clientele likely looks for just that."

"You mean you're small and have 'submissive' written all over you?" JT says half-joking as he looks at him in the rearview mirror with an arched eyebrow.

"Something like that," Malcolm mutters and turns his attention out the window, hoping JT hasn't noticed how flushed he is. The chuckle from the driver's seat tells him that he's out of luck on that front.

They head back to the precinct and spend the rest of the day digging through Christian's life, retracing his final hours and hoping to discover where he may have met their killer or any ties with their previous victims. Unfortunately, late into the evening with no leads to follow, they decide to call it a night.

"We'll pick it up in the morning," Dani says when she notices the hesitation to leave on Malcolm's face. "It's your first day back, Bright, you need to make sure you're not overdoing it."

He hates to admit it, but she may actually be right. He's exhausted and can feel his anxiety levels creeping up. His body's reaction to Nicole that afternoon was not unpleasant but still came as a surprise and set the rest of his day a little off kilter. He'd expected to feel differently with the changes to his medications that he and Gabrielle were working on, but he hadn't really thought through how it would affect his work.

For once in his life, going home actually sounds enticing. The thought of putting on his comfiest sweatpants and curling up in bed is possibly the most appealing prospect he could imagine. He doesn't over-analyze it, attributing the urge to his body's need for extra rest following his ordeal with Watkins, so he bids the detectives goodnight and heads to the street to catch a cab home.

When he walks into his apartment, the first thing he does is change out of his suit and into sweats and a t-shirt that's so worn that it feels like a second skin, but as soon as he's done that, he's at a loss as to what to do with himself. He wanders around his apartment for a while, but none of his usual activities hold any appeal at the moment, and though it's barely past ten, he decides to give into his body's urge to go to bed, praying that maybe, for once, he'll manage a full night's sleep.

He heads to his bedroom but, disappointingly, his bed doesn't seem nearly as warm or inviting as it did in his mind when he was at the station. He opens the trunk at the foot of his bed and pulls out two of the softest blankets he has, tossing them lightly on the bed. It's unusual – he normally runs hot at night – but he has a gut feeling that he'll sleep better with some extra blankets on his bed tonight.

He crawls onto the bed, curling the extra blankets around his body and relaxing into the mattress for a moment before moving to cuff himself in. As he slowly uncoils from the stresses of his first day back, he runs the case over in his head, working through leads and connections as he begins to unwind. His mind eventually turns to Nicole, thinking back to the way she looked at him like she was trying to see what was beneath his suit.

Malcolm's not blind. He's noticed the way that people look at him and knows that many people find him attractive, at least until they get to know him, but this was different somehow. He's had sex with Alphas before, but he's never felt the level of attraction, of need, that his Omega peers had described growing up. And he's quite certain that no Alpha has ever felt the out-of-control need to rut around him that being with a regular Omega can inspire. But today almost felt like the start of something more. Like Nicole could have introduced him to the world of which he was never able to become a part.

He thinks about the energy she exuded. Pure Alpha through and through. And God, does he want that. He wants to feel what it's like to be taken apart at the seams by an Alpha, by _his_ Alpha. Wants to be ordered into pleasure by someone who holds all the power. He feels himself getting hard just at the thought of it. 

It's the work of a second to unclip his right restraint and slide his hand into his sweatpants, skirting his cock and moving to roll his balls in his hand instead, drawing out the anticipation of a warm hand around his half-hard cock. He tugs on his balls, just hard enough to stay on this side of painful, thinking of an Alpha ordering him to pull harder. At first, the voice he hears in his head is Nicole's, that deep, honeyed voice that offered him an opportunity to step into a different life, a type he's never experienced. But it's not long until the voice becomes deeper, rougher, taking on a cadence that he's become so familiar with throughout the years. Soon it's Gil's voice telling him to tug a little harder, and he groans as he does, following Gil's instructions like a good Omega. God, he wants to be good for Gil.

Malcolm spends a little longer fondling his balls before he finally wraps a hand around his cock, giving two quick tugs before he stops, squeezing firmly and denying himself the pleasure he so desperately wants. He waits for a minute, maybe two, before he jerks himself a few more times and then abruptly lets go with a groan. He pulls his hand out of his pants and unclips his left restraint, freeing both hands to push his pants down to his knees before twisting to reach in the nightstand for the bottle of lube.

Popping the cap with one hand, he pours some lube on his fingers and spreads it quickly with his thumb before he brings his hand to his cock again, gripping tight and stroking slowly, just for a moment. He closes the lube with his left hand and drops it on the bed beside him, then brings that hand to the the hem of his t-shirt, rucking it up and giving himself access to pinch and pull at his nipples while he drops his hand lower to give his balls a quick rub and then continues even lower. Teasing his taint with just his fingertips, he draws out the anticipation before sliding his hand further, tilting his hips up for his slick fingers to meet their prize.

He uses feather light touches to tease his hole, barely enough pressure to do anything more than tickle the sensitive pucker. He imagines it's the scruff of Gil's beard that's setting his nerves on fire, imagines the man between his legs, looking up at him with those beautiful brown eyes as he makes Malcolm wait for something more than the ticking brush of his whiskers against his hole.

When he's teased himself enough, he brings a finger to press down on his hole, circling his rim with lube-wet fingers, thinking of Gil's tongue moving the same way, getting him wet and licking him open. It's not long before his middle finger is pushing inside, breaching the muscle and moving in deeper, all while he uses his fingernails to bite into his sensitive nipples. He yearns for it to be Gil's thick fingers pushing into his body, tugging on the hardened nubs of his nipples, but he knows that it will never happen, that Gil would never…

He pushes a second finger in alongside the first, trying to distract himself from a train of thought that he knows all too well, that he knows ends with a clenching pain in his chest. He lets the burn of his fingers pressing into his body pull him back to the fantasy, the dream of Gil between his legs, looking up at him with love in his eyes as he pumps his fingers into Malcolm's ass, speeding up as he goes until he's fucking hard into his tight hole.

Malcolm slides his left hand down his chest and over his stomach, his warm touch feeling almost cool against his fever-hot skin as he makes his way down to his throbbing cock and immediately begins to stroke himself in time with his thrusting fingers. He pushes a third finger into his ass as he twists his other hand around his crown, imagining it's Gil's tongue licking a stripe around him, his breath catching in his throat at the image. Malcolm's always had a thing for Gil's mouth and picturing his tongue darting out to tease and taste Malcolm's dick causes him to throb in his hand.

Wrapping his hand over the head of his cock, he can almost pretend it's Gil's warm mouth enveloping him, taking him in. Malcolm moans as he pictures Gil's lips stretched around his cock and he thrusts his fingers inside of himself faster, harder, needing to find his release now. No more teasing.

He starts to really jerk himself, throwing his head back and picturing Gil's cock pounding into him as the man chases his own pleasure. Malcolm wants more, the fingers fucking into him are not enough to fill him like he knows Gil would. He wants Gil to split him open, pumping into him so fiercely that Malcolm can feel it in the deepest reaches of his body. He needs Gil pounding into him as he leans in and growls, "You're mine, kid," before he moves to bite at his neck, claiming him as his own.

Malcolm comes with a shout, spurting thick ropes of come onto his stomach and chest as he strokes himself through his orgasm. Once he's squeezed out the last drop, he pulls his fingers out of his body and releases his dick, flopping boneless on the bed as he basks in his release. His mind remains blessedly empty as he catches his breath and it's not until the come on his belly begins to cool and dry that his brain comes back online. 

Against his own wishes, he drags himself out of bed and heads for the bathroom, kicking off his pants as he goes and dropping his come-stained shirt on the tile floor as soon as he reaches his destination.

It's only as he's standing beneath the cool spray that he realizes he got off on thinking about bonding with Gil. It's not that he's never daydreamed about it before. Back in his twenties it was one of his most common daydreams, but he mostly thought of it in a domestic way, picturing bonding and nesting and growing old together (and if he was feeling particularly self-destructive, picturing starting a family together. A family he knew he could never have).

But thinking of Gil biting down on his neck as he filled him so full was possibly the most erotic thought that Malcolm's ever had and his dick is already twitching as he relives the fantasy. As the water sluices over his too-hot skin, Malcolm lets himself think of Gil taking him hard and fast from behind, holding tight to Malcolm's hips, hard enough to leave bruises on his milky white skin. 

Malcolm's hand drifts down to his cock once more, distantly surprised to find himself hard once again. He fists his cock and starts a punishing pace, working himself hard from root to tip with no finesse, only an aching need to get off again. He thinks how Gil's cock would hit him at the perfect angle to brush over that sweet spot inside of him, over and over and over. Thinks of how Gil would keep pumping even after Malcolm had come and was shaking from oversensitivity, using Malcolm's body to find his own pleasure, as was his right as Malcolm's Alpha.

The sounds of skin slapping as Malcolm stripes his cock and his needy moans as he thinks of Gil as 'his Alpha' fill the small space, echoing off the tile and bouncing back at him with an acoustic perfection that he didn't know existed.

His hand moves impossibly faster as he pictures Gil's rhythm faltering as the man gets close, his knot catching on Malcolm's rim until he finally pumps in with a harsh thrust and then stills as he spills into Malcolm's warm body, leaning forward with his final spurts to bite down on Malcolm's neck and just like before, Malcolm comes as he thinks of Gil's teeth grinding into the flesh of his neck.

Throwing an arm out to prop himself up, Malcolm shoots his load up against the tile, coming so hard that he needs to lean against the wall for support for several minutes before he can let go and finally finish his shower, the evidence of two orgasms swirling down the drain.

He doesn't even bother with clothes this time as he stumbles to his bed, exhausted and sated, just crawls in amongst the piles of blankets and barely has time to clip himself into his restraints before he's sound asleep. And for the first time in a long time, he sleeps through the night without night terrors causing him to scream himself awake.


	2. Chapter 2

When his alarm goes off in the morning, upbeat music pumping through his apartment, Malcolm feels amazing. He can't actually remember the last time he slept through the night that wasn't as a result of a hospital visit.

He hurries through his morning routine, anxious to get back to the precinct, back to the case. He pauses only when it's time to take his medications, still feeling like he's missing something with how few bottles are now waiting on his counter. There's a little crackle of anxiety in his chest as he realizes that he's jumping back into his regular life without the safety net that he's had for so many years, but he breathes through it and carries on. Within a half hour of waking up, he's in the back of a cab with a smile on his face that makes the driver look at him sideways in the rearview mirror.

He bounds into the precinct and heads directly for the conference room, seeing JT and Dani through the slats in the blinds, already flipping through files on the conference room table.

"Good morning!" Malcolm calls as he glides into the room, clapping his hands together lightly as he makes his way to the case board. He gets identical raised eyebrows from Dani and JT but ignores the looks to focus on the board instead.

"You high?" JT asks.

Malcolm can't quite tell if he's serious or not but Dani makes her way to his side and says, "You seem happy this morning. Anything you want to share with the class?"

"What, a guy can't just be happy for no reason?" Malcolm asks, directing the question to both of the detectives.

"Bro," JT smirks, "You don't do happy." Dani leans around Malcolm to smack JT on the arm as she tells him to shut it.

"Anyways," JT rolls his eyes, "You were right about all of our vics being on heat suppressants, birth control, or both."

Malcolm isn't surprised. He had a gut feeling that this has something to do with these Omegas not having children, so the fact that all of the victims were attempting to prevent pregnancy serves to confirm his theory. 

"In a way, that's good news. It gives us a motive and narrows down our suspect pool immensely." Malcolm says, taking a step closer to the board and opening his mouth to expound further, but Dani stops him before he can continue.

"That's great, Bright, but the boss wants to talk to you first. He's in his office." Dani says, placing her hands on Malcolm's shoulders and turning him back towards the door, giving him a light shove towards the Lieutenant's office.

Malcolm chuckles as he walks away, hearing JT call out, "Make it fast, we could use your freaky mind thing on this."

He raps lightly on the door jamb as he pokes his head into Gil's office. Gil looks up from the paperwork he's slogging through, greeting Malcolm with a warm smile as he drops his pen and pushes himself to his feet.

"City boy! I've missed you, kid." Gil skirts around his desk to meet Malcolm as he walks into the office, wrapping him in a tight embrace.

Malcolm's missed the man more than he'd care to admit. Jessica had insisted on whisking Malcolm away to their summer home in the Hamptons for the entirety of his convalescence, so he hasn't seen Gil since he left the hospital over two weeks ago. He'd never admit it to his mother, but the change had actually been a brilliant idea. The summer home had no associations with John Watkins or his everyday life, which gave his mind a chance to heal, maybe even faster than his body.

As he curls into Gil's warm body, he breathes in deeply, taking in the scent of leather and sandalwood that's become so familiar to him since Gil rescued him all those years ago. Normally, the scent serves to calm him, bring him a peace that's usually far beyond his reach. But today, as he inhales the warm, earthy aroma that is so perfectly Gil, his heart rate kicks up, rather than slowing down. His muscles tense, feeling like an electric current is sparking through his entire body, a feeling he's never experienced before and that he can't quite wrap his mind around. He wants to pull away, confused by the sensations coursing through his body, but instead he finds himself pulling Gil closer, breathing him in even deeper. He only pushes himself back when he feels his cock twitch in his pants.

Gil looks down at him, concern creasing his forehead as Malcolm suddenly goes stiff in his arms, but something else is pulsing through just beneath the concern as well, something Malcolm can see the man is trying to hold back. "You okay, Bright?"

Malcolm feels his face flush with embarrassment and stuffs his hands in his pockets to try to distract from the way his pants are suddenly feeling a little too tight. He thinks it must have something to do with his fantasies the night before, but he never would've guessed that it would carry through into his interactions with the man come morning. "I'm fine," he says, too quickly to be believable.

"Look, kid, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I should have asked before I hugged you and –"

"No!" Malcolm practically shouts. It kills him that Gil thinks he's done something wrong. Fortunately, the sinking feeling in his stomach and the fact that Gil is no longer pressed up against him has caused his burgeoning erection to calm the fuck down. He licks his lips and tries to explain away the odd (even for him) behaviour. "It's not that. At all. It's just that we're still working on sorting out my medications so I'm not quite…myself." He looks away, embarrassed at the unintentional admission. 

He hadn't meant to tell anyone about the disaster that was sorting out his meds. Watkins had him for nearly five days — and he would be dealing with everything that happened in those five days for years to come — which was enough time without his prescriptions to fall into withdrawal and completely destroy the delicate balance of chemicals that he'd spent his entire adult life perfecting. His doctors said he was lucky to survive the abrupt cessation of his meds, but they also insisted he couldn't just reintroduce the medications at the dosages he'd been taking before John had kidnapped him.

It was a double-edged sword, really. He's been a chemically-imbalanced mess of emotions ever since he was rescued, especially the first week after they got him back, which made him feel a little like he did when he was younger, back before they started introducing the bulk of his medications. The one good thing to come out of it was that he was finally able, for the first time in his adult life, to start from scratch and see if he could maybe reduce some of his prescriptions. 

He's been in very close contact with Gabrielle since his rescue, working to decide which medications are absolutely necessary and which could have the dosages lowered or maybe even eliminated. It's like getting a blank slate and he intends to take advantage of it. It's been an interesting journey, to say the least, but there have been more good days than bad. So far. 

He still feels anxious and raw at times, but he truly believes that he is ready to be back at work. He hadn't wanted to tell Gil about it in case the man felt differently, and now Gil is looking at him with more than a little concern. "Are you alright? What do you mean you're not yourself?"

Malcolm sighs and decides that he wants to go back to when an erection was his biggest problem. "I'm fine, Gil. Honestly. We're working to adjust my meds, but Gabrielle said it's safe for me to come back to work." Which isn't _entirely_ true, but Malcolm figures it's close enough. She told him he should ease back into the activities that he was doing before John had abducted him. Malcolm took that to mean it was safe to throw himself back into his work. 

The look Gil is giving him is…intense, and Malcolm can't quite chalk it up to Gil trying to decide if he's telling the truth, because this look is somehow more meaningful than that. He notices that the Lieutenant is standing a little straighter, head tilting ever so slightly as if he's scented something that he needs to follow. Something that he _wants_.

"I want you checking in with me every day," Gil says after a weighted moment, "when you come in, and again before you leave. And I don't want you alone at any crime scenes until you have everything sorted. Understood?" The tone screams Alpha, which usually has less effect on Malcolm than it ought to, but he finds himself lowering his head in submission. Gil inhales sharply at the movement and Malcolm freezes.

Malcolm can't come up with any other word for the sound Gil makes. He growls. And it takes everything in Malcolm's power not to drop to his knees like his body is screaming at him to do. He doesn't understand what's happening with his body, with his mind. It's too much to process, too many changes, and his good mood from earlier dissipates as he begins to feel overwhelmed and adrift. He looks up at Gil and whimpers and suddenly Gil is moving past him to slam the door to his office and draw the blinds before he's back in front of Malcolm, wrapping him in his arms once again, holding him tight and calming his frayed nerves with his presence and his quiet reassurances.

Malcolm doesn't realize he'd been trembling until he slowly stills, relaxing into Gil's arms, which suddenly seem to feel like home again.

"Kid," Gil's voice has turned soft and warm, speaking quietly into Bright's hair, shifting into his role as caregiver and protector at Malcolm's spike of fear. "What the hell just happened there?"

Malcolm takes a minute to just bask in the safety of Gil's arms before he takes one last deep breath, inhaling the Alpha's scent before he pulls back and looks up at the man with red-rimmed eyes. "I don't know."

Gil still has his hands on Malcolm's shoulders, his touch anchoring Malcolm in a way he desperately needs. But when Malcolm really starts to look at the man, to pay attention to the way his jaw has tightened, the way his pupils are dilated, the way he's using his grip on Malcolm to physically keep him at arm's length, Malcolm suddenly feels a wave of insecurity and sadness wash over him. "Gil?" he whispers.

Gil takes a breath through his nose and says, "I can smell you, kid."

Malcolm's eyebrows scrunch in confusion. As an Alpha, Gil's sense of smell is exceptional. It shouldn't be surprising that he can smell Malcolm.

"I can _smell_ you," Gil emphasizes, taking a deep breath that causes a low rumble deep in his chest. "You've never smelled like this before, Bright." Gil seems to be warring internally as to what to do with himself. After another deep breath he drops his hands from Malcolm's shoulders and takes a step back. And then another.

"Gil?" Malcolm feels oddly self-conscious and Gil's inability to look him in the eye isn't helping him to feel any better.

"I'm sorry, Bright," Gil says through gritted teeth, his hand tightening into fists, "this is my fault, not yours."

"What do you mean?" Malcolm hates how small his voice sounds.

There's that low rumble in Gil's chest again before he bites out, "You smell...fuck, you smell like sex. Like heat."

A warm static envelopes him, and Malcolm's entire body feels like it's about to give out. He stumbles his way over to the chair in front of Gil's desk and lets himself collapse into it. That can't be right. He can't smell like he's going into heat, because he's _never_ gone into heat. The repeated traumas of his childhood, along with the battery of prescription medications that he was placed on shortly thereafter, combined to alter the chemistry of his body so completely that it rendered him infertile. Broken.

It was a source of endless bullying for him at boarding school. While all of his Omega peers were celebrating their first heat and endlessly discussing the changes to their bodies and the emotional backlash that accompanied it, he waited month after month, year after year for his turn to become the man he was meant to be. 

His mother had taken him to the best doctors in the city, of course, demanding second and third opinions when the news was unfavourable. Though the doctors said that it might be possible to reverse the damage if he ceased the medications he was on, it simply wasn't an option. He was barely coping with the nightmares and anxiety as it was. The medication was necessary for his continued survival, reproduction was not. 

As he got older, his doctors informed him that the longer he was on the medications, the more likely that the damage to his body would be permanent. The fact that he'd been on them through the entirety of his peak breeding years sealed the deal. He'd come to terms with the fact that he would never be able to have children a long time ago. Frankly, it was a bit of a relief. Malcolm believed in the furthest reaches of his soul that he was not father material. He could barely take care of himself some days. The idea of being responsible for another life was terrifying, and he knew that it was for the best that he'd be unable to carry on the Whitly legacy. But that fact that he'd never experienced a heat at all, something so crucial in the life of an Omega, was still a source of deep shame for him. He was defective. Unable to do the one thing he was _literally_ born to do. It ate at him, even if he'd always brushed it off as no big deal.

So for Gil to say he smells like heat. It pierces something deep inside that he thought he'd buried years ago.

He's so lost in his own head that it startles him when he becomes aware of Gil kneeling down in front of him, reaching out to gently brush away the tears that are silently falling down his face.

"Malcolm, I am so sorry. I usually have more control of myself, but you just caught me off guard and you smell so –" Gil takes another whiff and bites back a groan. "You know what? It doesn't matter. I reacted badly and I'm sorry."

Gil's hands drop from Malcolm's face to grasp his hands where they're resting limp in his lap, but Malcolm barely even notices. His mind is racing so fast that he can't seem to hold onto a single thought for more than a few seconds at a time. He's been feeling emotionally off kilter since John abducted him, and this — whatever this is — is salt on his very open wounds. It scares him to think that the chemical change in his body is mimicking a heat, which would be teasing him with the thing he's wanted more than anything for most of his life.

"Bright?"

Malcolm is sinking further and further into his thoughts when Gil wraps a hand around the back of his neck and tilts him forward, pressing their foreheads together and pulling him back into the present.

"Mal. Breathe," Gil says softly 

He follows the instruction and takes a deep breath, finally feeling the peace that Gil's presence usually provides. Sinking into it, he closes his eyes and continues breathing in the man in front of him. After a few moments, Malcolm is so relaxed that he doesn't even stop to think as he leans in a little further, letting his lips brush lightly against Gil’s, the tickle of the older man’s whiskers causing a slow smile to spread over his face as their mouths meet for the first time. 

It's better than he's ever imagined. Malcolm deepens the kiss, his hand coming up to card through the back of Gil’s hair, but just as he parts his lips, Gil pulls back with a sigh.

“Bright. We can’t do this." Gil whispers, still only inches away from Malcolm’s face.

All at once, reality comes crashing down on Malcolm and he realizes exactly what he just did. He kissed Gil. The man who has always been there for him and treated him like a son. The man who, with his wife, offered Malcolm a safe space while he was growing up. The man who cared for him and protected him and never, not once, in all those years showed any sort of interest in Malcolm as anything more than a surrogate son or a friend.

And now he’s jeopardized all of that. Of course Gil doesn’t want this with him, he’s damaged goods. He doesn’t know what he was thinking, it's like his body took over and his mind shut down, drifting into the imagined intimacy of the night before. All he wanted was to feel more of the comfort that Gil’s presence was providing. Gil has always represented warmth and love and home and for just a moment, Malcolm got to taste what that felt like. 

Malcolm's face flushes, turning a brilliant shade of red as he looks at Gil, eyes widening in embarrassment. "Oh God. Gil. I am so, so sorry." He launches himself to his feet, nearly knocking Gil over from where he's perched in front of him. He issues a stream of stuttered apologies as he makes a break for the door, determined to remove himself from the humiliating situation he's suddenly found himself in. He’s already making plans in his mind to order an uber and get as far away from the precinct as he can when Gil’s voice booms behind him.

“Bright, stop.” This time it is most definitely a command, and Malcolm finds that he can’t ignore it even if he wants to. His body freezes in place, hand on the door knob, and he drops his head in defeat. He’s not surprised when he feels the man come up beside him and place a hand over his on the door knob. “Look at me.”

It’s softer this time, a request, not a command. But he can’t. He’s been in love with Gil for nearly a decade and he knows that if he looks up at him right now it will be written across his face in giant neon letters. He’d rather the man think it was just a lapse in judgement caused by his altered medications.

But Gil’s soft, “Please,” blows that all to hell.

Malcolm looks up to find warm brown eyes staring intently down at him, and suddenly he understands what it must feel like for others when he’s profiling them. He feels splayed open and exposed, every part of his body and soul laid bare for Gil to inspect and assess. 

He's terrified of what Gil will find.

"Kid, I need you to tell me what you want," Gil says quietly as his eyes drift to Malcolm's lips, "because I'm not willing to risk reading this situation wrong."

Malcolm's a profiler — one of the best in the country — so looking at Gil's face, he immediately spots the lust and the concern and the…love? 

His breath leaves him in a stuttered exhale. A part of him is certain that _he's_ the one misreading the situation, but a much bigger part is screaming at him to take the chance because he'll always regret it if he doesn't.

"You, Gil." It's barely a whisper. If Gil wasn't standing only inches away, he wouldn't have even heard it. "I want you. I've always wanted you."

He holds his breath and waits.

He doesn't have to wait long. Gil's hand moves to the back of his head, gently tangling in his hair as he pulls Malcolm in, bringing their lips together once more. But this time it's different. This time Gil is taking control, deciding how fast and how deep their kiss goes, leading Malcolm with tiny tugs to his hair. 

Malcolm moans quietly when Gil's tongue comes out to sweep across his bottom lip and Gil takes it as the invitation it is, pushing his tongue past Malcolm's parted lips and into the heat of his mouth. There's a spark at the contact as their tongues slide together, shooting down Malcolm's spine and landing sharply in his cock, which is quickly returning to its earlier state of attention.

Malcolm takes a half step forward, pushing himself up against Gil's body and causing both men to break the kiss with a moan. Gil's got one hand tangled in Malcolm's hair and wraps the other arm around his waist, splaying a large hand on Malcolm's lower back and tugging him even closer.

Malcolm lets his own hands wander to Gil's waist, sliding slowly up his sides and onto his chest, reveling in the fact that he's actually getting to touch the man the way he's always wanted. He drops his head to Gil's shoulder and whispers, "What is this, Gil?"

Malcolm's honestly not sure if he's asking what's happening between them right now, or what's happening to Malcolm's body that caused the whole thing to start in the first place. 

Gil strokes his hand up and down Malcolm's back, letting Malcolm know that he's there for him no matter what happens. "I think we need to go see your doctor and find out what's going on before we do anything else." When Malcolm tenses in his arms he's quick to clarify, "It doesn't change anything between us, Bright. And we'll still have to talk about this, alright?" He drops a kiss to Malcolm's hair and continues the soothing motion of his hand on his back. "But kid, you smell like you're in heat and I can't let you keep working right now. I'm sorry, but you know the rules."

Malcolm is about to pull back and argue that he can still work the case, that they _need_ him to work the case, and that even if his body is mimicking a heat, he's not actually _in_ heat, when he suddenly becomes aware of the faint tremor that's running through the older man and feels how hard he is where he's pressed up against Malcolm's hip. He leans back slightly, Gil's hands on his body keeping him from getting very far, and looks the man in the eye. 

"Gil. Are you alright?" Malcolm asks, finding his footing once more as he watches Gil carefully for signs of discomfort or deceit. There are a lot of things he needs right now, but highest on the list is the need to know that Gil is okay.

Gil's hand tightens in Malcolm's hair as he says, "Honestly, kid? It's taking everything I have not to bend you over my desk right now and fuck you so hard that you forget how to breathe."

Malcolm's eyes flutter shut and he moans wantonly, rolling his hips against Gil's leg. "Do it. Please," he whines.

Even with his eyes closed, he can feel the weight of Gil's gaze on him. Against his body, beneath his hands, he can feel the way Gil's muscles contract as he holds himself back from actually doing it. Gil's self control and restraint have always been qualities that Malcolm admired in the man, but right now he's cursing the man's self-discipline. He can't shake the thought of Gil taking him, right here in his office, knotting him while he holds him down hard against the desk.

His breath catches on a needy whine when he feels Gil start to rut against him but it only lasts a few seconds before Gil breaks the contact between them, pushing them apart and once again holding Malcolm as far from his body as his arms will allow.

Gil turns his head to the side and takes a few deep breaths, a weak attempt to clear the Omega's aroma from his scent receptors. Whether it actually works or whether it's the deep breathing exercises, neither of them knows, but he gets himself under control before he does something that they could both regret later.

"Doctor. Now. You can call from the car."

"Gil, what about the case? There's an active serial killer out there." Even though Malcolm is so hard he's having difficulties focusing, he can't just let go of the case, can't just ignore that someone out there is brutally murdering fellow Omegas.

"Dani and JT can handle it for a little longer on their own. I'll take you to the doctor and then you can work the case from home, get us a profile started so we can track this guy down." The longer they stay apart, the more control Gil seems to regain, slowly transitioning back from Alpha to Lieutenant right in front of Malcolm's eyes. The change in his demeanor helps Bright to calm himself down, too, enough to know that Gil is right. 

Prying his fingers off of Malcolm's arms, Gil opens the door and gestures for Malcolm to go through first, following only steps behind him. Bright leads them to the conference room but stops just inside the doorway when Gil places a halting hand on his shoulder.

JT and Dani look up as soon as the men walk in and Dani seems to notice a change Bright, something about the way he's holding himself broadcasting that something's not right. She opens her mouth to ask if everything is okay, but Gil beats her to the punch.

"Bright and I need to step out for a while. Keep working the case and call me if you get any new leads or hit any walls." Gil says, and Malcolm realizes he intends to leave the specifics out in order to respect Bright's privacy. JT and Dani are sharing identical looks of bewilderment and Gil and Malcolm both understand that they'll need to offer them more of an explanation as to why they're leaving in the middle of an active investigation. Gil looks to Malcolm, who gives him a slight nod, before he adds, "Malcolm needs to see a doctor. I'm going with him."

Dani's gaze narrows to Malcolm as she tries to work out what exactly is different about him, but he steels himself against the scrutiny, not wanting to embarrass himself any further today than he already has.

"You good, Bright?" she finally asks when she realizes that he's not going to inadvertently give anything away.

"I'm sure it's nothing. Hopefully I'll be back in tomorrow, but I'll continue working the profile from home after my appointment." Malcolm smiles, trying to keep his voice as normal as possible. He overcompensates and it comes out on the wrong side of too-cheerful, but there's nothing he can do about it now.

Dani shoots a concerned look to Gil, but JT, ever practical, just says, "You call us if you need anything. Got it?"

Malcolm's smile melts from plastered-on to genuine at the declaration, feeling the prickle of tears at the backs of his eyes and inwardly cursing the chemical imbalance that's keeping him so wrong-footed today. He nods to avoid speaking around the lump that's formed in his throat and Gil's hand gives a quick squeeze where it's resting at the juncture of his neck and his shoulder. The spot where, just last night, he came, _twice_ , while thinking of Gil biting down to bond with him.

The quiet moan startles all four of them. Three pairs of eyes widen in astonishment as Malcolm slams his own eyes shut in embarrassment. Malcolm feels Gil's hand clamp down possessively on his shoulder and he bites down on his tongue to keep another moan from spilling out. He's mortified and can't bring himself to open his eyes and see the way he's sure Dani and JT are currently looking at him.

"Come on, Bright," Gil whispers, tugging him back through the doorway. 

He opens his eyes as he turns, catching the slightest glimpse of surprise on JT's face and worry on Dani's. It's only as Gil is leading him out the front door and down the steps towards the LeMans that he realizes that there wasn't a hint of disgust or disapproval on either of the detective's faces.

Gil opens the passenger door for him and he sits down, freezing as soon as he makes contact with the seat and looking up at Gil with a horrified expression. Gil crouches down beside him, placing a hand on his thigh as he asks, "What is it?"

Malcolm feels his face heat up and wants nothing more than to just disappear into the ether. He can't bring himself to say it, but he knows that Gil isn't going to leave his side until he knows what's wrong. He looks down at his hands as he whispers, "I, uh, I didn't realize. It wasn't until I sat that…" he stumbles over his words, trying to find the least embarrassing way to say it. "Jesus, Gil. I'm so wet."

He had felt a bit slick as they were in the precinct but he was too distracted by everything that was happening to really pay it much mind. But as soon as he hit the seat, it became painfully obvious just how wet he really was. He could feel it pooling between his cheeks and dripping down his thighs, his pants sticking uncomfortably to his body where it's pressed against the seat. He knows what it is, he took the same physiology and anatomy classes as everyone else, but he's never experienced it first hand. He can tell himself that it's a natural bodily function as many times as he wants, but it's not going to change how humiliating it is.

He sits with his head hung in embarrassment for several seconds before he finally lifts his eyes to meet Gil's, keenly aware that Gil has yet to say a word in response to his admission. He expects to see compassion in Gil's brown eyes, knowing that Gil would never turn his back on him when he needed it, but instead he's met with pupils blown so wide that there's barely any brown left around the edges. 

"Oh," Malcolm breathes out as Gil's lips pull back, baring his teeth ever so slightly, his hand tightening on Malcolm's thigh before he slowly starts sliding it higher. "Yes, please Gil."

Gil's left hand comes up to the back of Malcolm's neck, nails scraping against his nape before he pulls him in for a bruising kiss while his right hand keeps moving higher, cupping Malcolm through his pants and rubbing with the heel of his hand. Malcolm's jaw drops on a groan and Gil invades his mouth, and it feels like Gil is trying to fuck him with his tongue, he works him so thoroughly.

Malcolm's starting to buck up into Gil's palm, when the sound of a throat clearing behind Gil startles them both. "Excuse me, gentlemen—"

Gil's head snaps around so fast that Malcolm thinks it has to have hurt, but that thought is smashed to dust and blown away on the wind as Gil _snarls_ at their intruder.

Malcolm watches the poor officer cower, wide-eyed and afraid, as he mumbles, "I'm very sorry, Lieutenant," before he scurries back to the precinct.

Malcolm chews his lip, debating what to do for only a second before he brings a hand to Gil's face and softly runs his fingers along his jawline, waiting for the tension in the man's neck to ease enough that he can turn his face back to Malcolm from where he's still glaring daggers at the spot where the officer had been standing.

Once the tension has eased enough that Malcolm is able to get Gil's attention back on him, he has to stifle a laugh at the abashed look on Gil's face. He's not sure if the man's chagrin is due to snapping at the officer or feeling Malcolm up, but either way Malcolm can't help the swell of love that fills his chest as he looks at the man.

"That was…unexpected," Malcolm smirks, and Gil chuckles in response, hanging his head while he takes a breath.

"Sorry, kid," Gil says, and Malcolm can tell he means it. "I haven't felt this out of control in probably 20 years. Your scent is intoxicating." Gil gives Malcolm a small smile, a quick peck on the lips, and then pushes himself to his feet, adding, "Which reminds me, we need to get you to the doctor."


	3. Chapter 3

Gil closes the door softly before heading over to the driver's side, and Malcolm sees him take a moment to steady himself before he slides into the car. Malcolm wages a minor inner war before he slides his hand halfway between himself and Gil, hoping that he's not setting himself up for disappointment. Gil only takes a second to throw the car in drive before he reaches over and takes Malcolm's hand in his own, giving it a squeeze and holding on tightly as he eases the car into traffic.

Though he's usually unwilling to do so, he uses the Milton name to get himself an immediate appointment at the doctor's office, and within 20 minutes Malcolm is being called into the examination room. He gets to his feet, self-conscious about the way his pants are sticking to his body, and looks to Gil. "Will you come with me?"

"You sure?" Gil asks, unsure, "It's pretty personal."

Malcolm takes a second to think about it. A part of him is wondering if Gil's interest in him is solely a result of the pheromones his body seems to be pumping out, and it causes a throbbing ache in his chest to think that all of this could change tomorrow. But he knows he wants Gil there, wants his Alpha there, even if he's not sure that Gil thinks of him the same way.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Malcolm says, and he can't help but smile at the way Gil's face lights up at his answer.

The Milton name (and money) ensures that Malcolm has a number of tests and labs run within the hour, and though some of the tests will take a couple of days for the results to come in, many of the results are expected back quite quickly. They're afforded the luxury of staying together in an examination room as they wait for the results to come in, though Gil is careful to keep his chair on the other side of the room from where Malcolm is sitting on the exam bed, just to make sure neither of them gets carried away.

The longer they have to wait, the more anxious Malcolm gets, a whirlwind of thoughts spinning through his head. He needs to know where Gil stands. Needs to know _before_ the results of the tests come in and they have a concrete idea of what's happening. Needs to know how Gil feels when everything is still a mess of uncertainties and confusion. 

"Gil, what do you want from this?" Malcolm asks before he can start to spiral into some anxiety-fueled breakdown. He sounds calmer than he feels and silently congratulates himself for it. As hard as it is to look Gil in the eye, he does, needing to see the truth behind the next words out of Gil's mouth.

Gil blows out a breath and sits a little taller, and Malcolm can tell he's preparing himself for something that could end badly. It makes Malcolm's stomach twist and flip as he waits for the verdict.

"Honestly?" Gil asks, and Malcolm nods once — it's all he can manage — before Gil steels himself and begins to talk, "I want you. I want us. But I'm afraid that whatever it is that's happening with your body right now is just making you _think_ that you want me, maybe because I was the nearest Alpha, and that when this is all said and done, you'll regret everything that's happened."

Malcolm stares at Gil, completely dumbfounded, having trouble believing that Gil actually wants him. Gil presses on before Malcolm gathers his wits enough to speak up.

"It would kill me to think I'd taken advantage of you, Malcolm. I care about you too much to jeopardize our relationship based on a chemical change in your body that could be altering how you actually feel about me." Gil looks uncharacteristically nervous, hands clenched tight in his lap and eyebrows drawn, and Malcolm realizes that Gil is just as uneasy about this as Malcolm is. The knowledge serves to calm Malcolm's fears and gives him the courage to push forward.

"Gil, I've wanted you for years. There's nothing new about how I'm feeling," Malcolm says, watching Gil's eyes widen in surprise. "I never thought anything could come of it, so I tried to bury it, but it's always been you."

Malcolm hops down off of the examination table and walks over to Gil, kneeling down in front of him and placing his hands lightly on Gil's knees. "But is this something that you really want, or are my pheromones just making you want to mount and claim me?"

"Fuck, kid," Gil says, reaching out to run a hand through Malcolm's hair, the fingers on his scalp leaving a trail of tingling bliss that runs right through Malcolm's body down to the soles of his feet "I've wanted to mount and claim you for years. And ever since you came back to New York, I've dreamed about knotting you and breeding you and making the world see that you belong to me." 

Gil's touch, his words, go straight to Malcolm's cock and he can feel a new gush of heatwet dripping from his hole as he pictures Gil knotting and claiming him. He moans at the feeling and uses his hands to push Gil's knees apart, sliding his body into the open space and nuzzling up against Gil's crotch, feeling the man harden beneath the layers of fabric separating them.

Gil groans above him and Malcolm spares a look up, seeing how badly Gil wants this before sliding his hands up Gil's thighs and making right for the button and fly of his slacks. A few adjustments and he's pulling Gil's cock free of its confines, his mouth watering at the sight. He's thicker than Malcolm had imagined and his hole twitches as he thinks about Gil pushing into him, filling him so full. Malcolm runs his hand reverently up and down the shaft as he leans in to take a taste, licking over the head and moaning at how good Gil tastes. 

He wants more.

Malcolm moves his head down and buries his nose at the base of Gil's cock, breathing in his musky smell before briefly mouthing his balls and then licking a broad stripe from root to tip, finishing with a swirl around the head. He feels Gil's hand tighten in his hair and looks up through his lashes to find Gil looking down at him, a heavy combination of emotions flickering across his face. Malcolm decides to pack away the love and guilt for later, and focus on the lust.

He swirls his tongue a few more times, looking up at Gil as he does it, before he leans forward and seals his mouth over Gil's cock, taking him in until it nudges the back of his throat and then pulling back. He takes his time to start, bobbing his head for a minute before pulling off to tongue Gil's slit or suck on his balls and then moving back to take his length into his mouth once again. It's been a while since Malcolm's let someone fuck his face and he wants to make sure he still has his gag reflex under control before he makes the offer. So when the tip of Gil's cock pushes into the tight channel of his throat and he doesn't gag, he knows he's ready. He pulls off of Gil's cock with a sloppy kiss and starts to work him with his hand as he looks up once again.

"Gil. Alpha. Will you fuck my face, please?" he asks quietly, deferring to his Alpha.

Gil growls and fists Malcolm's hair even tighter, yanking his head back and stretching the line of his throat. Malcolm whines as the _pleasurepain_ makes his own dick twitch in his pants, but he keeps working Gil with his hand.

"Is that what you want, city boy? You want me to use your mouth? Choke you on my cock?" Gil asks, lust making his words come out tight and harsh and Malcolm can feel his body opening up just from the tone of his voice.

"Oh, god. Yes. Please, Gil." He opens his mouth wide, but Gil is still holding his head back, pulling so hard that Malcolm is facing the ceiling rather than the cock that he wants so badly. Gil brings his free hand to Malcolm's mouth, his thumb running gently over his bottom lip and Malcolm's tongue automatically darts out to sneak underneath, licking at the pad of Gil's thumb and drawing it into his mouth. Gil lets him tongue the digit for a few seconds before he pulls his hand back and stands up in front of Malcolm, pulling Malcolm's head forward until the tip of his cock is resting heavy on Malcolm's tongue.

"You're sure?" Gil asks gently, even as his breathing becomes fast and shallow, and Malcolm can tell Gil is holding himself back, wanting to make sure he doesn't hurt Malcolm. It warms his heart while simultaneously causing him to release more slick.

"Yes," Malcolm pants, and Gil must see the conviction in his eyes because he brings his other hand up to wrap in Malcolm's hair before he pulls his head in, _hard_ , while thrusting his hips forward, Gil's cock jamming down his throat without warning. Malcolm's so turned on by the display of dominance that he nearly comes then and there, clamping his hand down on his trapped erection to keep from creaming his pants.

Gil doesn't give him any time to adjust, using his grip on Malcolm's hair to drive him back and forth on his cock, occasionally pressing hard into his throat until Malcolm's nose is buried in his pubes and then holding him there, choking him like he promised. Malcolm scrambles to get a grip on Gil's hips, his fingers twisting into the fabric of Gil's pants as he holds on and rides it out while Gil fucks his face hard and fast.

Malcolm gasps for air whenever Gil yanks his head back, but Gil mostly keeps his cock buried in Malcolm's throat and it's not long before his air supply is compromised enough to make him lightheaded as he gives himself to Gil completely. His arms drop from clutching Gil's hips to fall limp to his sides, letting Gil take control of everything and use his body however he sees fit.

Malcolm gets so lost in the sensation of total submission to his Alpha that he doesn't even realize he's coming in his pants, just feels another indistinct wave of pleasure wash over him. He's too focused on Gil's scent surrounding him and the way his thick cock is sliding into his throat over and over. 

Soon, he feels Gil's hot release shooting into his mouth and down his throat and swallows automatically, but he's so out of it that he's unaware of much else. He vaguely registers Gil sitting back down, but only because he has to chase after his cock so he can continue to nuzzle into the man and breathe in his scent, rubbing his face over the fragrant area, trying to absorb his scent into his skin. 

Malcolm feels, more than hears, the low chuckle that issues from deep in Gil's chest, and it settles like a blanket over his blissed out form where he's sprawled across Gil's legs. He stays like that, lost in a state of blissful euphoria, until there is a light tap on the door and he feels Gil's entire body tense beneath him.

"Fuck off!" Gil snarls above him.

Malcolm whimpers and his body starts to tremble, the sudden change in Gil's temperament jerking Malcolm painfully from his dreamy trance.

"Shhh, it's okay," Gil says, pulling Malcolm off the floor and into his lap. Malcolm immediately moves to wrap his arms around Gil and burrows into his neck as Gil continues to whisper apologies and assurances to him. "I'm sorry, baby, I didn't mean to scare you. You're safe. I've got you."

Malcolm continues to tremble in his arms and Gil gives him all the time he needs to calm down, running a hand comfortingly up and down Malcolm's back and speaking in low, reassuring tones until he settles and pulls back ever so slightly. He keeps his arms wrapped tightly around Gil's neck, but gives Gil enough room that he can lean in to gently take his mouth, pressing light kisses to his lips.

"I'm sorry, Malcolm," Gil says between kisses, his whiskers rubbing against Malcolm's lips as he speaks. 

"It's fine," Malcolm says, a little embarrassed at his display of weakness. He knows that an Alpha's mood can intensely affect their Omega, especially during a heat or rut, but he's never experienced it until now. He can feel Gil's fits of anger and lust as they're transmitted through his pheromones, and it's both intoxicating and terrifying. It's one more thing that Gil has control over, which makes Malcolm's blood heat with need, but that also means that it's one more thing in his life that he has no control over, and for someone with deep rooted trust issues, that's hard to accept.

Gil presses a kiss to Malcolm's forehead and chuckles, "I think I owe your doctor an apology, too."

Malcolm feels a lightness in his chest that he hasn't felt in a long while, just knowing that Gil wants him. Knowing that Gil wants to keep him safe and that the man's Alpha instincts were definitely triggered being around him. Now he just needs to find out what exactly is happening with his body, so they can decide where to go.

"I'll go get her," Malcolm says, shifting to rise off of Gil's lap, but Gil squeezes around his middle to stop him, nipping just once at his lip.

"You relax a bit, baby. I'll go get her," Gil says, slipping one arm under Malcolm's knees and pushing himself to his feet, keeping a firm grip on Malcolm as he rises. Malcolm knows that Gil's quite fit, especially for a man his age, but the ease with which he lifts him comes as a surprise. It also makes Malcolm think about how easy it's going to be for Gil to manhandle him into any position he wants, which is certainly an appealing thought.

Malcolm's just considering if he can convince Gil to take him over the exam table when Gil gently places him down on said table, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead before taking a step back and tucking himself back into his pants, arranging his clothes so he can go and find the doctor. 

"Are you okay for a bit on your own? Do you want me to help you get cleaned up first?" Gil asks, leaning over to plant a hand next to Malcolm's head, looking down at him with something that looks a lot like love to Malcolm. 

"I'm good," Malcolm smiles. And honestly, he is. He's a mess, for sure, come and slick cooling in his pants, but he's so pleased with the fact that he was able to satisfy Gil, and even more pleased that Gil actually wants him, that he's content to just lay and bask in the sensations for a while.

Gil presses one last kiss to his lips before he turns and leaves the room, and Malcolm is sure he's preparing quite the apology in his head as he goes. He closes his eyes as he waits, remembering the feeling of Gil's heavy cock sliding over his tongue and down his throat. When he woke up that morning, he never expected that the day would lead them here. Together.

He turns onto his side, curling up and into himself and allowing his mind to drift, letting his hopes and dreams and fears float by mindlessly as he waits for the doctor and his Alpha to return.

A slow smile spreads over his face as he thinks of _his Alpha_. He's well aware he's getting ahead of himself. Gil admitted that he wants him, but that doesn't necessarily mean he'd want to bond with him, to spend the rest of his life with him. But, for once in his life, Malcolm decides to let himself enjoy the good things, rather than worrying about a future that has too many variables to plan for at this point.

He's lost in a haze when he becomes aware of the door opening, hearing the low tones of his doctor and Gil speaking but not really caring enough to listen to the conversation. He perks up a little as he feels Gil's hand fall on his back once again, rubbing soothing circles there.

"Bright?" Gil calls quietly, and Malcolm can hear the smile in the man's voice. 

Malcolm slowly blinks his eyes open, turning his head so he can look up at Gil, taking in his indulgent smile and relaxed posture. With Gil's help, he pushes himself up to sit on the table, cringing at the mushy feel in his pants as they push against his thighs and ass. Gil starts to move towards the chair on the other side of the room, but Malcolm is quick to reach out and grab hold of the cuff of his jacket, tugging lightly as a request to stay near.

Gil doesn't even think twice, hopping up on the exam table next to Malcolm and wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Malcolm is delighted by the easy intimacy that seems to have developed between them in the course of the last few hours. He's never experienced anything like it, and he's willing to admit, to himself at least, that he never thought he _would_ experience anything like it. He snuggles into Gil's side before looking over to the doctor, who is looking at the two men with an amused smirk on her face.

"Mr. Bright, we have the preliminary results from some of the tests," Doctor Eslinger says, rolling the little three-legged stool over in front of the exam table and taking a seat, crossing her right leg over her left and placing the clipboard with his results on her lap. She flips through the papers and begins to inform him of the findings, "I know that we've discussed your body's inability to go into heat and the likelihood that you'll be unable to conceive in the past, but based on these results, you are most certainly entering a heat right now. I'd estimate you have approximately six to eight hours until you're fully immersed, so I would recommend you head home immediately after this appointment. At this point, I can't say with any degree of certainty if this is a one time thing, or if you will be experiencing them regularly for the remainder of your peak years. I understand that this is a new experience for you, so if you have any questions, I'll be happy to answer them in just a moment, and I have some literature here for you to take with you as well. But first, I think we need to discuss the chemical and physiological changes to your body."

The doctor carries on, providing a detailed explanation as to how the abrupt withdrawal of his medications seems to have altered his brain chemistry enough that it triggered a heat. Malcolm basically stops absorbing everything she says as soon as he hears that he is, in fact, in heat. That he is going to get to experience that rite of passage that is the birthright of all Omegas, but that he was so cruelly denied.

One thought leads to another and he interrupts the doctor's explanation of imbalanced neurotransmitters to ask the question that suddenly seems too big for him to contain. "Am I fertile?"

He feels Gil look at him in surprise but keeps his eyes on the doctor. He doesn't want children, knows he's not father material, but all of a sudden, the possibility is there when it never was before. All those daydreams of bonding with Gil and starting a family become just a tiny bit more realistic. He has to remind himself that those were only dreams and nothing more.

"We would have to do a number of tests to determine that, Mr. Bright," Dr. Eslinger says, folding her hands over the clipboard on her lap. She looks from Malcolm to Gil and then back at Malcolm. "Until we know for sure, I would suggest you err on the side of caution and use protection if you're going to have sex rather than using toys to get yourself through this." She pauses for just a second before adding, "Unless, of course, you're hoping to conceive."

Malcolm flushes a little but Gil just holds him tighter as the doctor finishes explaining his test results. He looks over at Gil, who is listening intently to everything the doctor is saying, thank God, because Malcolm can't seem to pay attention to anything but the Alpha sitting next to him and what this could mean for the two of them.

The doctor arranges some follow up tests for after Malcolm's heat has ended and Gil finally removes his arm from around Malcolm's shoulders to jot down the appropriate dates, times, and phone numbers in the notes of his phone. Malcolm is still a little fuzzy but tries to force himself to listen. It _is_ his body they're discussing, after all. 

"Now, based on the levels of hormones from the samples we've taken, it looks like you are in for an exceptionally intense heat." Dr. Eslinger warns him. "If you'd like, I can prescribe something to help reduce the severity and make it easier for you to endure. Seeing as how this is going to be your first heat, it likely would have been overwhelming even without this extreme potency."

There's no judgement in her voice, which Bright appreciates, but still, he doesn't want to do it. If there's a chance that this is going to be his only heat, he wants to experience everything.

He knows that he needs to talk with Gil about whether or not he intends to stay with Malcolm and help him through this, but even if he needs to lock himself in his apartment and fuck himself silly with toys for the next three days, he doesn't want to lessen the experience. He looks at the doctor and confidently states, "No. But thank you."

"Alright, the decision lies with you and your Alpha, but I am going to write you a prescription in case you change your mind once your heat fully commences." She rolls over to the computer near the door and types out a prescription, printing the paper and handing it to Gil before turning to Malcolm and asking, "Do you have any questions for right now?" 

Malcolm shakes his head, faintly aware that there are probably a million questions running through his mind, but his attention keeps getting dragged to Gil and the warmth of his body where it's pressing up against his side. Gil must notice his gaze and looks over with an indulgent smile, lifting his arm to wrap it around Malcolm once again and leaning in to whisper in his ear, "Is there anything you're worried about?" Malcolm shakes his head and Gil continues to speak quietly into his ear, "I'd like to take care of you through this, if that's okay with you?"

Malcolm whimpers as a jolt of desire shoots through him, his eyes sliding closed as he nestles even closer to Gil, who just chuckles and tells the doctor, "I think we're okay for now."

Malcolm is still slightly overwhelmed by the onslaught of information and emotions that have been thrown at him in the last few hours. Confusion and apprehension warring with lust and excitement, leaving him wrong-footed and with a feeling of vulnerability that he hasn't felt since he was a child. He wants Gil to take him home, somewhere he can feel safe in the midst of this storm, so he's relieved when the doctor stands from her stool and makes her way to the door.

Gil gets to his feet and helps Malcolm up as well, walking them to the door with Gil's arm possessively wrapped around Malcolm, stopping only to pocket the promised literature before leading them through the clinic and to the front doors.

"Last chance, kid. If you have any questions for the doctor, I can wait here for you," Gil offers, knowing there could be personal or private things that he wouldn't want to talk about in front if Gil.

Malcolm smiles at the older man, thankful for his love and support, especially now when everything in his life has taken so drastic a turn in such a short time. Gil has been there for him through every up and down since he was ten years old, and Malcolm has come to rely on the man's steady presence in his life. He was there to help him through the immediate aftermath of The Surgeon's arrest and the months of silence that followed closely behind; Gil was actually the first person he spoke to when he felt safe enough to use his words again, much to his mother's chagrin. Gil saw him through his tumultuous school years, keeping him motivated with praise, distracted with stakeouts, and safe with his love. He set him on the path that led him to Quantico, led him to a career where he could help people and maybe begin to atone for all the victims he couldn't save from his father.

And now he's here to see Malcolm through this latest…complication. Gil said he wants to help Malcolm through his heat, and Malcolm understands instinctively that he means to mount him and knot him and fuck him through his fever for as long as it takes to get past it. Now that he's seen Gil's cock, had it in his mouth, it's so much easier to imagine what it will feel like as he thrusts into Malcolm's overheated body, the way he'll stretch him and fill him in a way none of Malcolm's toys would be able to, the way his...

He's pulled from his thoughts as Gil's hand on his shoulder squeezes in a way that feels unmistakably possessive.

"Kid? We need to go. Now," Gil says low and firm, and Malcolm gives himself a shake to break from his musings only to see a fire in Gil's eyes that screams urgency and protectiveness (and an undercurrent of unwavering desire that's been there since their encounter in Gil's office). Malcolm cocks his head as he tries to work out what changed in the last few minutes and sees Gil's eyes sweep over the waiting room like he's looking for possible threats.

Malcolm turns his head slowly only to be met with dozens of eyes staring back at him. The clinic's waiting room is fairly full and it seems like every single person, including the receptionist and nurse behind the check in desk, is staring at him. A quick read of the room tells him that most of the looks are innocuous, however there are two men in the room whose body language is quickly shifting to something predatory.

Alphas.

And Malcolm fucking reeks of heat.

Gil picks up on the spike of fear that hits Malcolm at the realization and he pulls Malcolm closer, tucking him against his body as his lips pull back in a snarl directed firmly at the other two Alphas in the room. One of them backs down immediately, reluctantly relaxing back into his chair, but the posturing does little to sway the other one, a man so large and muscular that it's apparent even as he's sitting that he's quite a bit larger than Gil.

Which, apparently, means sweet fuck all to Gil as he raises himself to his full height and puffs out his chest, a steady growl emanating from deep within. When Malcolm feels Gil's muscles tense where he's pressed up against his side, he can tell that Gil is preparing to stalk forward and attempt to assert his dominance. Even taking into account the other Alpha's size, Malcolm has no doubt that Gil will emerge the victor but he really doesn't want it to come to that.

Understanding that his pheromones were having an effect on Gil (and possibly the other Alpha as well), Malcolm forces himself to relax and try to ratchet down the tension in the room. He shifts himself to stand in front of Gil, blocking his path and drawing his attention down and away from the other Alpha. 

"Gil, let's go," he says quietly, pressing his hands up against the man's chest, fingers scraping gently over his surprisingly soft turtleneck sweater. The texture of the knit beneath his fingers helps to keep him calm and let him focus on the task at hand. And though he doesn't love the idea of having his back turned to an aggressive Alpha, he knows that Gil will keep him safe. Always.

The creak of plastic behind him lets Malcolm know that the Alpha is shifting in his seat, preparing to stand, and if the way Gil's entire body stiffens beneath his hands is any indication, things are apt to get out of hand very quickly.

"Gil, please," Malcolm says, pushing lightly against his chest, trying to make him step back without overtly challenging his authority, but Gil is basically a brick wall at this point, and doesn't even budge.

He can feel the tension ratcheting up throughout the room and knows he's running out of time to end this without bloodshed. If this devolves into a fight between Alphas, Gil is going to be spending the rest of the day in a police precinct as the best case scenario, or a hospital as the worst. As far as Malcolm is concerned, neither of those are options.

He lifts his hand to Gil's face, laying his palm on his cheek with his thumb just brushing the edge of the man's goatee. He lets his warmth creep into Gil's skin and can feel the exact moment that Gil really registers his presence beyond just something that he needs to protect. 

Malcolm waits patiently, relaxing his own muscles and making an effort to slow his racing heart, looking up at Gil's beautiful face, taking in the way the salt is starting to overrun the pepper in his beard and the way his laugh lines lend a kind set to his face, as he waits for Gil to look down at him.

It's a quick glance at first, Gil's eyes darting down but then immediately shooting back to the other Alpha, but Malcolm can feel the change in the way Gil's body feels against his and the way his scent is shifting, ever so subtly. He begins to run his thumb along Gil's cheekbone, slowly shifting Gil's focus back to him. When he's sure the man is listening — even if he's clearly unwilling to look away from the perceived threat — Malcolm whispers, "Take me home, Alpha. I need you."

Gil's eyes finally drop down to meet Malcolm's and Malcolm watches as the fight drains right out of him. Without sparing the other Alpha a second glance — though Malcolm is absolutely certain that Gil is intensely aware of the other man's movements — Gil leads them out of the clinic and straight to his car.

Malcolm isn't sure if he's imagining the looks he's getting as they make their way down the block and a half to where the LeMans is parked, but he's very sure of Gil's protective presence and the way he radiates a proprietorial air that should probably piss Malcolm off but is instead getting him rock hard in his soiled pants. They make it to the car with no incident, and the drive to Malcolm's is spent in quiet contemplation from both men.


	4. Chapter 4

Malcolm has a million questions, but the only thing that matters to him at the moment is getting Gil inside of him as quickly as possible. By the time they pull up in front of Malcolm's apartment, he's already undoing the top few buttons of his shirt, his tie having been abandoned at the doctor's office. 

"Stop," Gil says, and Malcolm's hands immediately drop to his lap. He looks to Gil, needy and starting to breathe a little quicker, and Gil calmly adds, "I want to unwrap you myself."

Malcolm's response is entirely incoherent, but Gil just leans over to plant a kiss on his cheek before getting out of the car and making his way around, holding Malcom's door open for him and offering an arm. Though it feels a little silly, Malcolm is more than happy to accept the gesture and reaches out to link his arm in Gil's. They stay that way, arm in arm, as they head into Malcolm's building and make their way upstairs, sexual tension building with every step.

By the time he unlocks the door and they step into his apartment, Malcolm is ready to burst. He's breathing far heavier than a few flights of stairs warrants and he can feel the heat wet beginning to leak again. After closing the door behind them, he turns to tell Gil that he'll just go take a quick shower, but Gil has him pressed up against the door, mouths crashing together, before he can even begin to speak. Malcolm only breaks the kiss when he realizes he's rutting against Gil's leg, pulling back sheepishly with an embarrassed, "I'm sorry."

Gil cups his face, gently stroking his jaw with his thumb, and makes sure that Malcolm is looking him in the eye when he says, "No apologies, okay? There's nothing to be embarrassed about." He leans in and drops a chaste kiss to Malcolm's lips before adding, "You're going to feel a lot of new things over the next few days. I want you to tell me what you want, what you need, no matter what, okay? I'm here to help you through this."

Not only can Malcolm physically _feel_ the love coming from Gil, he can also read the honesty of his words written clearly on his face. His heart stutters in his chest as it swells with a contentment that he's never felt before. He feels the dopey grin as it spreads over his face, heart swelling even further when Gil responds with a soft smile of his own.

"Thank you, Gil," Malcolm says sincerely. "For everything."

"No thanks required kid, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Now, why don't you go get cleaned up and I'll check in with Dani and JT. I need to let them know I'll be taking a few days off." Gil says, stepping back to give Malcolm enough room to move.

Malcolm's eyebrows furrow, a little of his peace dissipating as he thinks of Gil stepping away from the job right now. "Gil, you can't just take a few days off."

"My banked vacation time says otherwise," Gil says lightly.

Malcolm shoots him an unimpressed look. As much as he wants, and maybe even needs, Gil to be with him, he can't forget the fact that there's a killer out there that's targeting his fellow Omegas. Malcolm may not be able to work the case, but Gil is probably their best shot at bringing this guy down.

"Kid, I'm not leaving you," Gil states with a finality that Malcolm instinctively knows he can't argue against. He bites his lip as he tries to come up with something to convince Gil otherwise, but Gil just continues, "Now, go get cleaned up and I'll make us some food," Gil holds up a hand to forestall Malcolm's objection, "And don't even try to argue. You're gonna need your strength."

It's a warning and a promise and Malcolm feels himself flushing once again. This time, Gil leans in and lays a set of feather light kisses over Malcolm's cheeks where he's sure the worst of the redness has settled. 

"You're beautiful when you blush," Gil murmurs as he pulls away. Then, with a glimmer in his eye, he brings a hand up to Malcolm's elbow, angling him towards the bathroom before letting go to land a swift swat to Malcolm's ass to get him moving. "Get yourself nice and clean for me, baby. I'm gonna spend the better part of three days inside of you."

The tap on his ass is a reminder just how soiled his pants are, but the words — and more specifically the visions that they conjure — have him getting wet all over again. His eyes slip closed, and he lets his mind wander into thoughts of all the things he wants Gil to do to him, a needy moan falling from his mouth.

"Fuck. Kid, you have three seconds to get into that bathroom or I'm taking you apart right now."

As tempting as it is, Malcolm really does want to get cleaned up, and Gil needs to make that phone call. He opens his eyes to see the lust on Gil's face but forces himself to push it aside in favour of a quickstep to the bathroom, calling out to ask Gil to feed Sunshine before closing the door behind him and slumping against it. It's the first time he's had alone since realizing something was happening to his body this morning, so he takes a deep breath and decides to take a few minutes to unpack his emotions and get his head on straight before rejoining Gil.

He huffs out a breath and pushes himself off the door, making his way over to the shower to get the water running. He lets it run colder than he usually would to counter his rising temperature and then begins to strip his clothes away. His pants will need to be professionally cleaned, but he decides his boxer-briefs aren't worth the trouble and tosses them in the garbage with a wet splunk. 

The first streams of water on his overheated skin feel glorious and he allows himself some time to stand under the spray, letting it rain down on him, washing his thoughts down the drain along with the slick and come coating his body. After a few minutes he begins to wash himself head to toe, spending extra time making sure he's clean for Gil, his cock hardening at doing such a simple task for his Alpha.

When he's convinced he's as clean as he can get, he turns off the water and quickly dries himself off before wrapping the towel around his waist. Just as he's about to exit the bathroom, though, the buzzer sounds at his front door.

"I got it," Gil hollers from the kitchen, and Malcolm waits with his hand on the knob, listening as Gil buzzes the visitor up. Following a brief exchange that Malcolm can't quite make out, he hears the door close and the lock click shut. 

Malcolm pokes his head out of the bathroom to see Gil balancing an absurd number of paper bags bearing the logo of the sandwich shop down the street. Opening the door the rest of the way, he walks out of the bathroom, smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as he asks, "Hungry?"

Gil freezes as he walks back to the kitchen, eyes raking over Malcolm's body so intently that he could swear he actually feels them dragging along his skin.

"The state of your fridge is appalling," Gil eventually manages after a few seconds of drinking his fill of Malcolm's damp and nearly naked body. "You have sparkling water and condiments. How have you survived this long?"

Malcolm shrugs — frankly, that's a damn good question — and turns towards his bedroom to grab a pair of pyjama pants to toss on. "How'd you manage to get an order so quickly?" He turns his back to Gil as he drops the towel on his bed, bending slowly to pull on the pyjamas, knowing full well that Gil's eyes are still on him. He shimmies them up his thighs and leaves them slung low on his hips before he turns back to face Gil.

He's still standing halfway to the kitchen, bags held tightly in his hands and Malcolm can practically hear him debating if he should just drop the bags where he's standing and jump Malcolm right away. It's a heady feeling, knowing that he's causing Gil to feel that way, and Malcolm decides he rather likes it.

Malcolm slowly makes his way from the bedroom to meet Gil where he's standing, plucking two of the bags from his hands, intending to play it cool and remain indifferent, but as soon as he gets close to the man and his scent overwhelms him, Malcolm finds himself moving steadily closer, trying to push himself up against the man, takeout be damned.

There's a low growl issuing from deep in Gil's chest but he steps back and moves towards the kitchen to set the bags down. "I offered them a ridiculous tip," Gil answers Malcolm's earlier question as he starts unloading the bags, putting most of the items directly in the fridge but keeping out a small container of strips of chicken and a stack of cheese slices. 

Malcolm shakes himself out of his haze enough to help unload the food, but he's finding it harder and harder to concentrate on anything but the way Gil's muscles are shifting and rippling beneath his sweater as he moves around the kitchen. 

He means to go to the cupboard to grab a plate, but he somehow ends up pressing himself against Gil, burying his face in the man's neck and sucking in a lungful of scent. It's intoxicating. 

His hands are moving to Gil's belt within seconds, button and zip following right after. Gil doesn't stop him but he does slow him down with a kiss, slipping his finger under Malcolm's chin to tilt his face up from Gil's neck, Malcolm's hands stop with the zipper halfway down so he can focus on Gil's lips on his. 

"Bright, I need you to eat something first," Gil says, and Malcolm can feel the smile against his lips. "At least a bit of the chicken, you're going to need the protein."

"There's some other meat I'd rather have," Malcolm pouts, rubbing his palm over Gil's rapidly filling erection.

A beat of silence and both men dissolve into a fit of laughter, leaning into one another as their bodies shake with mirth. 

"That was terrible, kid," Gil wheezes as he tries to catch his breath.

"Yes. Yes it was," Malcolm manages between giggles. "I blame the heat."

Fortunately, the humour breaks through the lust long enough that Gil actually manages to feed Malcolm a few strips of chicken, scarfing down a number of strips and a few pieces of cheese himself. The sauce from the chicken sits sticky on Gil's thumb and fingers when they finish, and Malcolm pulls Gil's hand to his lips, looking him in the eye as he darts his tongue out, swiping over the sticky digits to lick up the sauce. He swirls his tongue over each finger, one at a time, sucking them into his mouth to clean them off, watching the way Gil's pupils dilate with every lick.

"Fuck, kid. The things you make me want to do…" Gil breathes out, staring intently where his middle finger is disappearing into Malcolm's mouth, and Malcolm picks up a sudden influx of Gil's scent, his arousal evident in the aroma as it pervades Malcolm's senses.

Malcolm pulls off of Gil's finger with a pop and a filthy grin, "Yeah? Tell me what you want to do to me?"

Malcolm can feel his temperature rising, the fever heat emanating from deep inside and rolling off his skin in waves. He can feel his inhibitions lowering as his libido kicks into overdrive and he knows that soon, he won't be able to think of anything but Gil's cock slamming into him, plugging him up as he shoots load after load deep inside of him. It's already getting hard to keep his hands off of the man, one hand still holding onto Gil's, while the other has started to roam over Gil's stomach and chest, aching to feel the body beneath the sweater.

"Well," Gil says, backing Malcolm up against the fridge and bringing a hand up to the back of his neck, fingers toying with the hair at the nape, "I could tell you all about choking you with my cock, or tying you up and fucking you so hard that you feel me inside of you for days, or having you ride me until your legs give out and I have to fuck up into your tight body..." Gil pauses, letting Malcolm imagine all of those scenarios in his strikingly active imagination, before he continues on, speaking low into his ear, "Or I could just show you."

Malcolm doesn't even try to hold back the whimper that falls from his lips, the thought of Gil using him like that sending a shiver rippling through his body and leaving his hair standing on end. It's everything he's never let himself want, and his entire being thrums with desire, with the need to belong to the Alpha in front of him.

His body seems to be completely tuned into Gil — the quiet rasp of his breath as he tries to keep himself in check, the spicy smell of his pheromones as Malcolm’s heat starts to provoke his most base desires, the way Gil’s cock is pressing into Malcolm’s hip as he pushes in closer.

The way he’s looking at Malcolm like a possession, like he belongs to him.

Malcolm tilts his head away from Gil, baring his neck in an overt display of submission, and all bets are off. Gil growls and slides his hands down Malcolm’s body, giving a hard squeeze to his ass before dropping to the tops of his thighs and hauling his legs up to wrap around Gil’s waist, large hands steady under his ass to support his weight. The fact that Gil is able to manhandle him so easily delights Malcolm to no end, and he’s quick to pull Gil’s head down into a vigorous kiss, all clashing teeth and probing tongues as they seek to devour one another before they even make it to the bedroom.

But it’s not enough. With a slow roll of his hips, Malcolm reminds Gil exactly what he wants from him. Gil responds with a sharp thrust of his own hips, his teeth latching onto Malcolm’s lip when Malcolm’s jaw drops with a gasp. Tugging at his bottom lip, Gil presses Malcolm firmly into the fridge behind him and begins grinding up against him, their cocks rubbing together beneath far too many layers of fabric.

The pressure inside of Malcolm is building so quickly that he’s certain he won’t survive it if Gil’s cock isn’t pounding into him _right now_. He throws his head back hard, Gil’s teeth scraping over the flesh of his lip as it’s ripped from between the man’s teeth, and somehow the tang of blood in his mouth just fuels the fire even more and he damn near sobs, “Gil, please!”

While he’s embarrassed at the tears that have slipped free, it seems to spur Gil into action and before he knows it, Gil is lowering them both to the bed, laying Malcolm gently on his back and crawling over his body, licking and biting his way down Malcolm’s neck, over his pecs and down his stomach as he makes quick work of tugging off the recently donned pyjama bottoms. When Gil moves to stand up, Malcolm’s arms swing out blindly, wrapping around his neck and pulling him flat on top of him. He begs, “Don’t go. Please. Fuck. Gil, I need you,” as he ruts up against him, searching for friction for his aching cock.

“Kid,” Gil says with a forced calm that Malcolm would be able to spot as a lie from a mile away on any other day, “If you want my cock, I need to get my pants off.” 

The words barely break through the fog of lust that’s clouding his brain, but when Gil grabs hold of his wrists and pins them — hard — to the mattress above his head, and growls, “Stay,” in a tone that shoots straight to Malcolm’s cock, he does as he’s told. He nearly screams as Gil pulls away, standing up to shuck his clothes as quickly as possibile, leaving them in a pile at the foot of the bed. Fortunately, Gil is crawling back between his legs blessedly quickly, and beautifully bared. 

Bodies touching, skin to skin from head to toe, Gil feels cool pressed up against Malcolm’s searing skin and he’s nearly delirious with need as Gil gives him one final kiss before getting to his knees and sliding his hands along Malcolm’s thighs, urging him to spread his legs and bare his twitching hole. Malcolm doesn’t hesitate, not only spreading his legs, but also yanking them up towards his chest, leaving him fully splayed out in front of Gil.

Malcolm knows that Gil is speaking, but can’t make out the words over the crying pleas steadily flowing from his own mouth. Breathless and needy, he begs for Gill to fill him, knot him, claim him.

He never expected that this was what a heat would feel like. Everything he’s read and everything he heard from his fellow Omegas growing up, nothing could have possibly prepared him for just how all-consuming the need actually is. In the span of only minutes, reproducing has somehow become the most critical biological imperative, surpassing even his need for air or water. Every fiber of his being is demanding that he find an Alpha to claim him with an urgency that’s so overwhelming he can no longer think straight.

When he was at boarding school, he was forced to endure a swimming class as part of his physical education. The school was, of course, equipped with an Olympic-sized pool, which meant that the room was large enough that their instructor was unable to keep an eye on everything that was happening. One day, while the instructor was busy correcting the form of their champion swimmer at one end of the pool, a group of three boys that had a grudge against Malcolm because of his last name cornered him at the other end. Malcolm was small and scrawny and no match for the much larger boys as they dunked him under the water and held him down.

At first, he thought they were just goofing around, that they would surely let him up after a moment, laughing and calling him names like they always did. But as he struggled to surface, the hands just held him down tighter. Soon his body began to fight in earnest, lashing out at the hands holding him down, arms swinging and legs kicking out in the useless slow motion that the water induced. His lungs began to burn, screaming for oxygen as the hands continued to roughly hold him under. Eventually that burning need spread from his lungs, sweeping through his blood stream and leaving every inch of his body in absolute anguish as he fought to survive. The instructor eventually noticed what was happening and the boys let him go, leaving him free to break the surface, gasping and spluttering and coughing up the water he'd just started to inhale as he used his final moments to scream out in despair. The powerlessness he felt that day stayed with him for a long time, and as hard as he tried, he couldn’t forget the feeling of being denied the air that he needed to survive. Couldn't forget that crushing feeling of suffocation when he was sure he was about to die.

And this, here, now, aching for Gil to fill him…

Somehow it's worse.

He feels Gil's finger rub up against his hole, the rosebud twitching at the contact and opening easily as Gil slides a single digit inside, but it's not enough. Nowhere _near_ enough.

"Please, Gil," Malcolm cries, barely managing to suck in enough breath around the tightness in his chest to get the words out. "Your cock. I need your cock."

"Fuck, kid. I need to prep you first," Gil apologizes and Malcolm opens his eyes to see the regret in his gaze for forcing him to wait. Fortunately, Malcolm is soaked with slick, and his body is already so primed to be breached that Gil is able to add a second finger and then a third in quick succession.

Malcolm writhes on the bed beneath Gil the entire time, begging for more as the fever peaks and his body approaches its combustion point. He's on the verge of completely falling apart when he feels the head of Gil's cock nudge up against his tight hole. His breath catches on a sharp inhale, air trapped in his lungs as Gil pushes in torturously slowly. Malcolm's leaking so much slick that the slide is smooth, but the lack of prep leaves him clenching oh so tightly around Gil's length. When Gil _finally_ bottoms out, Malcolm blows out the trapped breath, the vice that had been crushing his chest loosening its hold as a feeling of peace washes over him. The need is still there, clawing just beneath the surface, but he feels like he's been granted an unexpected reprieve and nearly weeps at the respite.

When Gil leans down and starts kissing him with a tenderness that nearly gives him whiplash after the violence of his body's urges, he smiles into the kiss and wraps his arms and legs around the man, pulling him closer for as much contact as possible.

"Thank you," Malcolm groans as he shifts his hips and Gil moves inside of him. It feels so close to perfect. He just needs a little more. "Can you fuck me, Gil? Hard?"

Gil hums against his neck where he's currently sucking a bruise onto Malcolm's delicate skin. He stays close enough that his goatee rubs against Malcolm as he asks, "You ready for that, kid? You ready for me to start moving?"

He's mid-nod when Gil gives the first thrust of his hips, Malcolm yelping in shock. Gil's cock feels perfect inside of him, like he was made for exactly this purpose, and as Gil begins a steady pace of solid thrusts into his body, Malcolm feels complete in a way he never has before. Everything just suddenly...fits — pieces of his world falling into place with a clarity that burns through the fog of his heat long enough to declare with a clear head and open heart, "I love you, Gil."

Gil's pace falters as he pushes himself up on his hands, giving himself some space to look down at Malcolm, and Malcolm wants nothing more than to smooth out the crease in between Gil’s eyebrows. He can tell that Gil thinks it’s the heat talking. That when all is said and done, Malcolm will realize that he didn’t actually mean it. He can also tell that there’s nothing he can say or do right now to prove otherwise, so he resigns himself to waiting until his heat has ended before he can convince the man he means it.

“It’s okay,” Malcolm assures him, bringing a hand up to cup his face. “I’ll tell you again in a few days.”

The crease between Gil’s eyebrows seems to dissolve at the words, a slow smile tugging at the corner of his lips instead. “Okay, kid,” Gil says, picking up once again with a slow roll of his hips, their bodies moving in tandem as they chase their release together. It doesn’t stay slow for long, both men far too worked up for anything other than a quick and dirty fuck for round one. Within minutes, Gil is thrusting hard into Malcolm, grunting, “I’m not gonna last.”

Malcolm’s fine with that. As much as he’d like Gil to rail him all night long, he’s yearning to have him knot him and come inside. He knows it’s the final piece of the puzzle to truly become whole. He clenches down around Gil’s cock, working his inner muscles to coax out the man's orgasm.

Gil hangs his head with a groan and drops down to one elbow on the bed, bringing his other hand between them to wrap around Malcolm's cock, striping it hard and fast as he works to get Malcolm off first.

And just like that, it becomes a race.

The glimmer in Gil’s eyes shouts ‘game on’ and Malcolm is more than happy to accept the challenge with an answering smirk. Even as the fever begins to grow with every thrust of Gil’s cock, Malcolm fights to keep his focus on getting Gil off first. With every move they make, Malcolm studies Gil's micro-expressions intently, finding out just what angle, what speed, makes Gil's breath stutter, and then makes sure those motions are repeated. He pays attention to how best to display his body — face turned slightly to the side with his neck stretched out — in order to make Gil's gaze turn ravenous. 

It's a double edged sword, though, because when Gil looks at Malcolm the way a starving man looks at a feast, Malcolm realizes that he wants to be truly and utterly consumed by him and he barely keeps himself from coming at the thought.

It doesn't help that Gil's knot is starting to grow and catch on Malcolm's rim as he moves, pulling perfectly with every thrust, shockwaves of pleasure rippling through him. Malcolm knows he's not going to last much longer and decides if ever there was a time to play dirty, it's now.

"Gil," he gasps, "please."

He tells himself that he's hamming it up, that he doesn't actually feel as desperate and needy as he sounds, but he knows it's a lie. "I want to feel you come inside of me." 

That's definitely not a lie.

He starts to really work his muscles, squeezing rhythmically around Gil's cock as he begs, "Please. I need you."

He's never spoken truer words in his life.

The way Gil is biting down on his lip gives Malcolm hope that he can still win, but Gil's doubling down on jacking Malcolm off, his hand working even faster than his hips. When Gil shifts his hips so that his cock slides over Malcolm's prostate, it's game over. 

Malcolm's back arches off the bed as he shoots sticky ropes of come across his stomach and chest as his orgasm reverberates through his entire body. It is, far and away, the most powerful and most satisfying orgasm Malcolm has ever experienced, and it just keeps going as Gil continues to stroke him through it.

"Bright," Gil grits out as he snaps his hips one last time, the swell of his knot pushing past the ring of muscle and making it impossible to pull out. He shifts his movements to short, hard bucks. "You're so beautiful like this."

Malcolm's entire frame shivers at the praise and he watches Gil's eyes light up with surprise just before they slam shut and suddenly Malcolm is being filled exactly the way he'd been begging for. Gil's still moving in aborted little pumps as waves of his come flood into Malcolm, satisfying him in a way that even his orgasm couldn't.

He brings his hands to either side of Gil's face and pulls him in for a kiss, needing to feel every inch of the man that he can. The kiss turns lazy and loving as they both come down from the high of their orgasms, light brushes of the lips and gentle strokes of their tongues as Gil curls around Malcolm as best he can, sliding his arms beneath his shoulders to press their chests together, heedless of the come cooling between them.

Malcolm's not sure if the Alpha’s need for contact is as prevalent as an Omega's, or if Gil just knows what Malcolm needs from his years with Jackie, but he's unbearably relieved that Gil is staying as close as he is. Malcolm closes his eyes as Gil begins to rub his face against Malcolm's neck, whiskers tickling his skin as the man rubs his scent on as much of him as he can manage. When Gil's lips begin to move over his skin, so close to the spot that Malcolm had fantasized just last night about Gil biting down on, Malcolm moans and his cock begins to twitch between them.

Gil pulls back ever so slightly, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Already?" Gil asks, sounding so impressed that Malcolm actually giggles.

"I have a rather short refractory period," Malcolm laughs, the rush of endorphins from his orgasm leaving him relaxed and carefree in a way that he doesn't often feel. "But this is fast, even for me. Must be the heat."

"Malcolm Bright, you're going to be the death of me." Gil wraps his hand around Malcolm's already half hard cock and begins to stroke slowly, leaving only enough room between their bodies for him to move his hand. 

There isn't as much stimulation this time around, but with Gil's knot — and come — already filling him, and the tender way that Gil has begun to kiss him, it somehow feels even more intimate. This is the Gil that his daydreams had a tendency to create when he was lonely and wanted nothing more than to have someone to take care of him. And now, Gil is here, doing just that. Taking care of him in every possible way.

His second orgasm takes him by surprise, jaw going slack beneath Gil's lips as he moans into the older man's mouth, warm come splattering his already sticky stomach and chest. His inner muscles clamp down on Gil's knot involuntarily, and the groan that it tears from Gil is enough to see him shooting another rope of come, right when he thought he was done.

When Gil finally releases his cock, he feels perfectly spent and drops bonelessly to the mattress. Gil — perfect and wonderful Gil — spends the time they have together until his knot deflates, kissing and spreading his scent over as much of Malcolm as he can, and Malcolm couldn't ask for anything more.


	5. Chapter 5

"I love you," Malcolm whispers sleepily.

The lips that are moving along his collarbone pause for a second, hesitation clear in the sudden tension in Gil's body, but it passes quickly and Malcolm feels the lips continue their rambling journey over his body as he falls into a light doze.

He's not sure how long he sleeps for, but he wakes up to Gil sitting next to him in bed, propped up against the headboard, thumbs flying over the screen of his phone. Lying on his side next to Gil's hip, Malcolm takes a moment to savour the sight of having the man he loves sitting so casually in his bed, looking like he belongs there. Even with the intense look of concentration on his face as he texts, he still looks entirely at ease, his muscles relaxed as he lounges in Malcolm's bed. Malcolm's eyes roam along his body until they land on his flaccid cock lying against his thigh, tantalizingly close to Malcolm's face. Unconsciously licking his lips as he thinks about taking him in his mouth, he realizes that he must've released a flood of hormones, because Gil's cock twitches in interest at the same time as the man in question groans and lowers his phone to the bed.

"I'd ask how you're feeling," Gil says, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, "but I think I already know."

Malcolm tries to return the playful grin, but the heat frenzy is coming on strong, burning through his veins, and within seconds he feels like he's on fire. He looks up a Gil, wide eyed and desperate, already struggling to breathe as his body screams for him to be filled.

"Shhhhh, it's okay," Gil says, sliding down to lay next to Malcolm, running a soothing hand through his hair. "We're gonna have to get some toys out soon, but let me take the edge off first, okay?"

Malcolm's fairly certain he manages some form of a nod, because Gil slides down his body and rolls him onto his back, quickly nestling between his legs. He doesn't waste time with teasing or gentle licks, instead engulfing Malcolm's cock with his mouth and sliding down until the head hits the back of his throat. The heat of Gil's mouth, the way he works his tongue along the bottom of his cock as he starts to bob his head, it's amazing. But it's not enough to quench the fire that's spreading through his body. 

Somehow, Gil seems to know exactly what Malcolm needs, and before Malcolm can even beg for more, Gil is pushing two fingers inside of his loose, wet hole. Between his slick and Gil's come, he's sopping wet and takes the fingers with ease, the digits providing nowhere near enough of a stretch to satisfy Malcolm's basest needs. Gil is quick to add a third finger and then a fourth, pumping hard and fast into Malcolm as he works his cock with his surprisingly talented mouth.

"Please, Gil," Malcolm cries. He plants his feet on either side of Gil's body, giving himself the ability to fuck up into Gil's mouth and down onto his fingers, but even as he ups the pace, he knows it's not enough. "More. Oh God. Gil, I need your fist."

Gil pulls off of Malcolm's cock and looks up over the expanse of his shaking body to find him nearly in tears. Malcolm can only imagine how desperate he must look, as he watches the question die on Gil's lips, the 'are you sure?' rendered unnecessary by the pure anguish contorting Malcolm's features.

He doesn't see Gil tuck his thumb into the palm of his hand on the next push into his body, but he feels it as a jolt of pleasure shoots through every single nerve in his body at the sudden stretch and increased depth.

"Fuck! Yes!" he shouts as Gil's knuckles push through the ring of muscle. It's not as thick as his full fist will be but it's beginning to quench the fire ripping through him. Gil's hand pumps in and out a few times like that, warming Malcolm up, until, without warning, Gil tightens his hand into a fist inside of Malcolm, at the same time swallowing down Malcolm's cock again.

Malcolm's brain short circuits at the surge of pleasure. He arches off the bed, head thrown back in a silent scream as Gil slowly starts thrusting his arm. The thick fist pulling at his rim as Gil tugs his hand out feels so close to the pressure of a knot that Malcolm forgets for a fraction of a second that it's Gil's hand — his entire fucking fist — that's inside of him. When he finally remembers how to breathe, he lets out a strangled wail that prompts Gil to pick up the pace, both with his hand and his mouth.

The head of his cock is popping past the tight ring of Gil's throat as Gil doubles down, swallowing around Malcolm's length while punching in and out of Malcolm's body with a speed that keeps Malcolm keening beneath him. He only realizes he's bucking his hips when Gil wraps his free arm around his thigh, holding him in place while he completely takes him apart.

It doesn't take long. The dual stimulation sending him to the brink of orgasm, and the sight of Gil's mouth wrapped around his cock, exactly like he'd fantasized the night before, pushes him over the edge. With a shout, he's coming down Gil's throat, the gentle massage of Gil's throat muscles as he swallows around him milking him even more. Gil only let's Malcolm's cock slip free of his mouth when Malcolm hisses with oversensitivity, but he just lays his head on Malcolm's thigh, rather than moving away.

"Do you want me to keep my fist in you for a bit?" He asks, voice rough from the pounding his throat had just taken.

Once again, Malcolm is reminded how fortunate he is to have such an experienced Alpha getting him through this. Gil seems to know what he needs better than Malcolm does, and he only now realizes that he does, in fact, need Gil's fist to stay inside of him for a while. His body seems to be accepting the fist as it would a knot, which makes the fever abate. For now.

"Yes, please," he exhales heavily. "Thank you."

Gil merely hums a response and settles himself restfully in the vee of Malcolm's legs, his head resting comfortably at the crease of Malcolm's leg and groin, letting every breath ghost across his softened dick.

Eventually Gil starts to move, and Malcolm guesses it's been about as long as it would take for a knot to deflate. He grunts as Gil straightens out his fingers inside, narrowing his hand to pull out of his now sensitive hole. 

"I'm gonna go get cleaned up, just relax here, okay?" Gil says with a kiss to Malcolm's pubic bone. 

Malcolm nods and let's his eyes fall closed, basking in the way his body feels as he listens to the water run in the bathroom. He lets his mind carry him off, thinking about nothing in particular as he floats in a hazy bliss of endorphins, unaware that Gil has finished in the bathroom until he feels the bed dip as Gil curls up against him, tucking Malcolm into the safety of his arms. Malcolm decides he’d very much like to stay that way forever.

Gil doesn’t push, doesn’t rush anything, just holds Malcolm until he’s ready to start moving. Reluctantly, Malcolm pulls away and runs a hand through his hair as he takes stock of his body. 

The fever is still there, just beneath the surface, and he knows he’ll go blind with need soon, but for now, it’s merely an itch that he can ignore, and they have some things to take care of while he’s lucid and not pawing at Gil.

“We should check in with Dani and JT,” Malcolm says, looking over to Gil for confirmation that it’s okay. Gil’s stomach grumbles in response and Malcolm realizes that Gil is probably starving. Judging by the light coming through the window, the afternoon has given way to evening and it’s been a long day of doctor’s appointments, ragged emotions, and sex. And Malcolm wants to take care of his Alpha. “And maybe I can make you some dinner, too.”

Gil smiles at him, love clear in his eyes, and Malcolm can’t stop himself from leaning in and tasting that smile. he kisses and licks at Gil’s lips, the goatee scratching at his face in all the best ways as they kiss for the sake of kissing, knowing it’s not going to lead anywhere. Yet.

“Okay, kid,” Gil eventually says, pulling back and rolling away from Malcolm before pushing himself up and throwing his legs over the side of the bed. “Food and phone calls.”

Malcolm’s aware it was his idea, and he really does want to work the case, but he already misses having Gil in his arms and has to tamp down on the urge to reach out and pull him back into bed. Instead, he shuffles himself to the other edge of the bed and pulls himself up. When he stands, he realizes just how much come and slick is coating his body and knows he’s going to need to take another shower before he can prepare any food, but the thought of washing away Gil’s come and the scent that he spent so long rubbing onto Malcolm is so awful that it’s physically painful and he actually whimpers as he stands frozen in place.

He sags into Gil’s embrace when the man’s strong arms wrap around him, breathing him in and letting his mere presence bring him peace.

“I don’t want to wash you away,” Malcolm whispers, wrapping his arms tightly around Gil’s waist. 

Whatever it is that Malcolm’s feeling, it’s an entirely new sensation for him. The heat frenzy he at least has a frame of reference for; it’s like being horny and drowning and starving all at the same time, and then dialling it up to 11. But this. This need to have Gil on him and in him and near him in every way possible…

Malcolm doesn’t know how to deal with this.

Gil, however, seems to understand what’s happening just fine. He holds Malcolm closer, lips brushing his hair as he says, “It’s alright. You don’t need to shower right now. It’s going to come in waves, Bright, and anytime you need me to scent you, or mark you, all you need to do is ask. Okay?”

Malcolm holds onto Gil until the anxiety passes and the nods up at the man. Instead of pulling away, Gil keeps one arm wrapped around his shoulders as he leads them out of the bedroom, stopping only to let Bright throw his pyjama pants back on, before steering them towards the living room and settling them onto the sofa. 

Malcolm presses up against Gil as closely as he can and is pleased when Gil wraps his arm over his shoulder and leaves it draped over his bare chest. It gives Malcolm easy access to entwine their fingers and feel completely surrounded by Gil.

“You ready to call, or do you need a minute?” Gil asks, giving the cell phone in his free hand a shake to indicate a team call.

“Let’s solve a murder,” Malcolm smiles.

Gil dials JT, turning the phone to speaker so Malcolm will be able to hear as well. JT answers after two rings and Malcolm can hear the frown in his voice.

"What's up boss? You and Bright doing okay?" 

Malcolm's not sure why, but the genuine concern in JT's voice takes him by surprise. Gil obviously feels this and gives his hand a light squeeze before answering.

"Yeah, we're both good. How's the case coming?" Gil says, obviously unwilling to share anything regarding Malcolm's current situation without his consent. 

The slight pause on the other end of the line is enough for Malcolm to speak up. "I'm fine, JT. Thanks for asking."

He can hear a small, relieved breath just before JT obviously switches his own phone to speaker and Dani's voice comes through the line.

"Hey Bright, you good? Do you need anything?"

Malcolm isn't sure what exactly Gil told them about what's happening, but he certainly doesn't want them worrying about him.

"Honestly, I'm fine. Gil has been… extremely helpful." Malcolm says, looking Gil in the eye as a playful smile spreads over his face.

He barely hears JT mutter, "I'll just bet he has," but he clearly hears the smack that follows and knows that Dani just slapped his arm. He's not sure if he should laugh or blush, and ends up doing both.

"What JT means to say," Dani says pointedly, and Malcolm can only imagine the look she's shooting at JT. There's an amused smile playing at the corners of Gil's lips that tells him that the older man is picturing the same scene. "Is that we're here if you need anything."

"Thanks Dani," Malcolm says sincerely, "I appreciate that."

"Now about that case?" Gil says, pulling them back to the matter at hand.

"Nicole called. Apparently, her lawyer advised her to cooperate with the investigation, and she suddenly remembered that there was a patron, Oliver Fernsby, that caused a bit of a 'commotion' over Christian a couple weeks ago," JT says, quite clearly using air quotes, and he rushes on before Malcolm can interrupt, "and before you ask, no, she didn't say what kind of 'commotion' it was. Whatever it was, though, didn't get him banned. They slapped him with a three month suspension, which I imagine he wasn't very happy about."

"That's probably an understatement," Malcolm says, eyebrows pinched into a frown as he leans forward slightly, getting closer to the cellphone that Gil is holding above his leg. "A suspension from Shift would be a severe embarrassment for Fernsby. He likely would have been ostracized and shunned by his peers. If he blames Christian for the suspension, it would certainly be a motive for murder."

"You rich people sure put a lot of stock in your social circles," JT grumbles, and Malcolm can tell Gil is about to say something, likely something about not grouping Malcolm in with the snobbishly elite, but Dani smoothly guides them back on track. 

"Anyways," Dani interrupts, "we've already found enough evidence of Oliver stalking Christian over the last couple of weeks to request a warrant to search his place. We're just waiting for a judge to sign off."

Malcolm looks over at Gil and sees the pride shining on his face. Malcolm knows that JT and Dani are more than just subordinates to Gil, they're family, and Malcolm knows that seeing them work the case so competently in his absence just builds on the respect that he already has for them. 

"Good work. Both of you," Gil says, keeping his tone professional, though Malcolm is sure JT and Dani still hear the note of paternal pride that he's unable to suppress completely. "You're not likely to get the warrant tonight, I want you both to call it a night and pick it up in the morning. I'll check back first thing tomorrow to see where we're at and if there's anything we can do from here. And be careful."

"Sure thing boss," JT says before adding with obvious discomfort, "And, uh, take care of each other."

Gil ends the call and sets his phone on the arm of the couch before turning to Malcolm and pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.

"What exactly did you tell them?" Malcolm asks, not terribly concerned, more curious than anything. Dani and JT are quickly becoming the closest thing he's had to friends in years and the concern they've shown him since the whole ordeal with Watkins has just highlighted the level of trust that's somehow bloomed between them. Malcolm's a little surprised to find that he doesn't mind the idea of them knowing what's happening.

"Honestly, not much. But they're good detectives," Gil states, then adds with a smirk, "and you may have given yourself away back at the precinct with that needy moan."

Malcolm blushes at the remembrance, but quickly shrugs it off. Somehow he knows that they won't judge him for that.

"Now how about some dinner?" Gil asks, pulling his arm back from around Malcolm and pushing himself to his feet.

"Let me," Malcolm says getting to his feet and stopping Gil with a hand on his arm.

"No offense, kid, but you're not exactly sanitary right now," Gil smiles, eyeing the dried come on Malcolm's stomach and chest and then cupping his face with warm hands. "Besides, I want to take care of you. Part of that is feeding you."

A quick kiss and Gil is moving to the kitchen, pulling out the containers from the fridge and preparing them a quick and simple meal. Malcolm supposes that Gil probably has a better idea of how long they have until the next wave if his fever hits and likely wants to get them both fed before it happens.

As he watches Gil moving around the kitchen, clad only in his boxers, muscles shifting to showcase his masculine frame as he stretches to reach for plates, he thinks it might be too late.

He's already getting hard and he can feel the fever swelling inside of him, overpowering him so swiftly that it should be disconcerting, except all he feels is a desperate lust that's already bordering on painful. He holds himself back long enough that Gil is able to lay their plates on the breakfast bar, but when Gil looks over to tell him dinner is ready, Malcolm practically pounces.

"Dinner's up, Bright. Come and get—" Gil is cut off as Malcolm throws himself into his arms and yanks his head down into a bruising kiss. When they finally break for air, Gil pulls back and asks, "Already?"

"Sorry," Malcolm mumbles distractedly as he grinds up against Gil. He knows the man needs to eat, and likely feels an overwhelming urge to feed Malcolm as well, but the only thing that Malcolm cares about right now is getting Gil's knot inside of him.

"It's fine," Gil says, hands sliding down Malcolm's back and underneath his pyjamas to cup his ass cheeks, kneading the muscles and making Malcolm buck harder against him. "The food will hold."

Gil walks Malcolm backwards towards the living room, stopping as Malcolm's thighs hit the back of the couch and tugging down his pants to free his aching cock. He's already panting for Gil's touch, so when he wraps his hand around Malcolm's dick, Malcolm moans and tightens his grip on Gil's hips, the spot where his roaming hands have finally landed.

"Need you," Malcolm begs as Gil works his cock.

"You've got me," Gil assures him. "How do you want me to take you?" 

"Hard." Malcolm punctuates the request with a quick jerk of his hips. "From behind."

Malcolm looses a startled yelp when Gil spins him around, and before he even knows what's happening, he's being pushed over so he's bent in half with his elbows on the back of the couch. Gil's hands drift from his shoulders down his back and along his sides, all the way to his ass. When Gil pulls his cheeks apart and holds Malcolm spread wide for his viewing pleasure, staring at the loosened opening, Malcolm can feel his asshole fluttering under his gaze. 

He feels more exposed than he ever has before. Slick, and with one load of Gil's come already inside of him and dried on his leg where it leaked out, Malcolm feels filthy and debauched as he senses Gil's eyes roaming over his well-used body.

It's surprising just how much he loves the feeling. The idea of being debased for Gil makes the blood rush to his already stiff cock, causing it to pulse and bounce up against his stomach, and deepen to an angry red.

"Damn, Bright. I love seeing you covered in my come," Gil says softly as he massages the firm muscles of Malcolm's ass cheeks. "Love watching your tight little hole wink at me, twitching for more."

Knowing Gil is entirely focused on the most private area of his body is exhilarating and he begins to roll his hips, searching for some sort of friction against his cock or something to stuff in his ass. Gil's thumbs slide closer to his needy hole, but remain agonizingly out of reach.

"You're so beautiful like this," Gil praises, sending a shiver rippling through Malcolm from head to toe at the compliment. "When you're not so desperate to be knotted, I'd like to come all over you. Rub it into your skin. Cover you in me."

Malcolm goes breathless at the thought of Gil smearing his come over Malcolm's skin, giving him his scent in the best way possible. He's so turned on that his cock is absolutely drooling precome. "Yes," he gasps when he finally remembers how to breathe. "Make me yours."

And God, just the thought of Gil owning him is pushing him embarrassingly close to the edge. He bites down on his lip, hoping the sting will pull him back, but he's so close to coming that he knows it won't take much more.

"Oh, Malcolm," Gil drawls, finally rubbing a thumb in slow circles over Malcolm's rim, "you already belong to me."

It's so unexpectedly possessive that Malcolm comes from the words alone, shooting his load onto the back of his leather sofa with a holler before collapsing to his knees 

"Did— Did you just—?" Gil asks, stunned. He kneels down in front of Malcolm and reaches out to tilt his head up, wide-eyed brown staring into glazed-over blue.

It takes Malcolm a moment to get his bearings before he can nod at Gil, trying to ignore the mess of semen splattered on the couch only inches away. Gil's eyes dart between the stain, Malcolm's eyes, and his spent cock, still completely in awe.

"Bright, you just came, almost entirely untouched," Gil says, like Malcolm might be unaware what just happened. "I think that's the sexiest thing I've ever seen."

Malcolm blushes and smiles shyly up at Gil, happy to have pleased him once again. His eyes drift down to the tent in Gil's boxers and back up to Gil's eyes, the question clear in his eyes. "You can still fuck me," Malcolm offers. "Or I can use my mouth."

Gil presses the heel of his hand against his erection and shakes his head. "I'll wait until you're ready to go again. I'm guessing it won't be long." Gil leans in and kisses him and Malcolm can feel the desire that's running through Gil in the way his tongue slides past his lips, fucking into his mouth. Malcolm would be more than happy to keep going and see where it leads, but Gil pulls back after a while, sucking in a deep breath and saying, "Let's get you fed."

They make quick work of washing up, including wiping down the back of the couch, and sit together companionably at the breakfast bar to eat their dinner. Gil digs in with gusto, and Malcolm makes a mental note to give Gil more breaks to eat if he can manage it. Malcolm mostly just picks at his food, eating small bites of this and that, surprisingly not terribly hungry, even after all of their vigorous activities. Gil has nearly cleared his plate when he looks over at Malcolm's nearly full plate and frowns.

"I figured this would be a safe bet. I've seen you order from here before," Gil looks as if he's second guessing his memory as he speaks, trying to work out if he really has seen Malcolm eat from this restaurant before. "I can order you something else, if you want."

"No, Gil, this is fine," Malcolm hurries to explain. "I'm just not very hungry."

Malcolm can tell there's something Gil wants to say but is holding back, and Malcolm would be willing to bet that it's because Gil is trying to ignore his own needs to focus on Malcolm's. While it's incredibly chivalrous, Malcolm wants to ensure that Gil is getting everything he needs from this encounter, too. 

Shifting on his stool to fully face Gil, Malcolm reaches out and covers the other man's hand with his own, where it's clenched into a fist beside his plate.

"Talk to me?" Malcolm asks.

Gil sighs and looks over at Malcolm, "I'm not sure if you understand just how powerful an Alpha's need to protect and provide is."

Malcolm's a little taken aback. They've worked a number of homicides together that were the result of an Alpha protecting their partner, so he's seen first hand just how intense, and violent, that impulse to protect can be. He's surprised that Gil would think he doesn't understand after everything they've seen. 

Gil scrubs a hand over his face and huffs out a breath, obviously sensing Malcolm's confusion. "Bright, I know you understand the protective instinct. But the need to provide and care for a partner can be just as fierce." Gil swivels on his stool to face Malcolm as well, knees bumping as he leans in and takes both of his hands in his. "Look, we don't have to talk about this now. But if you really want this, us, to keep going when your heat is over, we're going to have to have a conversation about you letting me take care of you."

Malcolm blinks rapidly as he processes Gil's words. He hasn't really let himself consider that Gil might want to continue this relationship after he sees Malcolm through his heat; there's too much of a chance of him getting his hopes up and having his heart broken. But if Gil is talking about this being permanent, Malcolm can't keep his heart from getting involved.

"Gil, I love you and there is nothing I want more than for this to be forever. And I'll do whatever it takes to make it work." Malcolm says earnestly. He means it with every fiber of his being. If Gil is honestly considering taking Malcolm as a partner, Malcolm would do anything to make it happen.

"Malcolm, don't," Gil says quietly, looking down at their joined hands and giving them a squeeze. Even with his eyes averted, Malcolm can read the patchwork of emotions covering Gil's face, and it makes his heart ache painfully, a tightness spreading through his chest. "Don't say that now, when biology is forcing your hand. I might not survive if you don't mean it when you're more clear-headed."

It kills Malcolm that he's not going to be able to convince Gil that it's not the heat that's making him feel this way, but Malcolm is finally starting to believe that, just maybe, Gil really does love him, too. 

After all the years of convincing himself that Gil could never feel the same way about him, it's almost overwhelming to think that Gil might actually love him. Malcolm feels oddly weightless at the realization, his body beginning to tingle from head to toe with the sort of euphoria he hasn't felt since that night at the club when a box of drugs exploded in his face. Only this time he's lucid enough to enjoy the feeling. 

He pulls one of his hands back from Gil's grip and brings it to the man's jaw, tilting his head up so that Gil is forced to look at him.

"I will tell you over and over for the rest of our lives, if you let me." Malcolm says seriously, praying that Gil will believe him. "I promise you this isn't the heat talking. I love you, Gil Arroyo. I have for a very long time."

He sees the hope spark in Gil's eyes, despite the Alpha's best intentions to keep his heart shielded until they can have a less hormonally driven conversation. Malcolm doesn't want to push, but it's physically and mentally excruciating for them both to have Gil doubt Malcolm's feelings.

Malcolm leans forward slowly, giving Gil a chance to back away if it's too much, and sighing in relief when Gil leans in to meet him halfway. Malcolm purposely keeps this kiss brief and chaste, needing Gil to understand that it's not lust induced. He pulls back after only a few seconds, his face only inches from Gil's as he whispers, "So, Alpha. Show me how you want to take care of me."

Gil's eyes dart back and forth between his own, searching for something that Malcolm can only hope he finds. He assumes Gil must've found what he was looking for when the man suddenly leans in to kiss him again, just a quick peck, before standing and leaning over the breakfast bar to grab a knife and then turning to Malcolm's plate of nearly untouched food. 

Malcolm watches as Gil cuts the sandwich into bite sized pieces, a good portion of the toppings spilling out onto the plate. Gil shoots Malcolm a hesitant look, but picks up a piece of the sandwich and brings it to Malcolm's lips. The way Gil's pupils dilate and the slow smile that graces his face as Malcolm wraps his lips around the sandwich and, inadvertently, Gil's fingers, clearly conveys just how much this really means to him.

As much as it pains him to admit it, Malcolm realizes that Gil may be right. Maybe he doesn't entirely understand an Alpha's need to provide. But if letting Gil feed him is all it takes to make him smile the way he is right now, he's willing to start eating every day. 

Gil feeds him almost half of his dinner that way, far more than Malcolm would ever eat on his own, and the smile on Gil's face never wavers. When Malcolm is sure he isn't going to be able eat another bite, he keeps Gil from pulling his hand away by sucking his fingers into his mouth, once again licking his fingers clean. This time, though, there's far less heat and much more love in the action.

A quick glance down at the front of Gil's boxers, though, shows that Gil is a little more affected than Malcolm may have thought. 

"Gil?" Malcolm says, letting Gil's fingers slip from his mouth with one last lick over the pad of his index finger, eyes glued to the bulge in his underwear.

"Hmm?" Gil responds, still staring at Malcolm's mouth.

"Can I?" Malcolm asks, licking his lips. He's not even in the grips of his heat right now, he just wants to feel Gil's cock heavy on his tongue. Wants to feel him pushing down his throat until he can't breathe.

"God, yes," Gil groans.

They're still facing each other, so it's no work at all for Malcolm to slide off of his stool and down to his knees. Gil is quick to shimmy out of his boxers before settling himself on the edge of his stool, cock hard and proud and bobbing right in front of Malcolm's face.

Malcolm dives in with the single-minded intent of bringing Gil as much pleasure as he possibly can. He licks and sucks and strokes with the enthusiasm of a beginner and the skill of a whore, and it's not long before Gil is grunting above him and tugging at his hair in warning. Malcolm keeps stroking but pulls his mouth off to ask, "Did you mean it?"

Between panting breaths, Gil asks, "Mean what?"

"When you said you want to come on me, rub it into my skin," Malcolm asks, his hand pumping firmly over Gil's thick cock.

"Fuck. Yes," Gil practically shouts and Malcolm can tell he's close. He darts his tongue out to lap at the slit of his cock and Gil brings his hands down, one combing through Malcolm's hair to tug at the back, the other knocking Malcolm's hands away so he can start jerking himself off. He holds Malcolm's face back, just far enough that Malcolm can no longer reach with his tongue, but that doesn't stop Malcolm from dropping his jaw and sticking his tongue out, waiting for a taste of Gil's seed.

It's maybe a dozen strokes before Gil explodes, the first shot of come ending up partly on Malcolm's tongue with the rest on his chin.

Malcolm swallows down the bitter spend as Gil continues to shoot wave after wave of come all over Malcolm's chest and stomach, stroking until he's milked himself dry. The last dribble of come, hanging from the tip of his cock, is wiped off on Malcolm's cheek when Gil smears his cock over Malcolm's face from nose to ear.

Gil only takes a moment to catch his breath before he pushes his bar stool to the side and drops down to the floor in front of Malcolm, tugging him into a heated kiss.

Malcolm keeps his eyes closed, focusing on the feel of Gil's hands the man begins to rub his come all over Malcolm's body, spreading it into his skin.

He doesn't know if it's all in his head or not, but Malcolm would swear that he smells almost entirely like Gil. As the glide of Gil's fingers turns sticky and begins to drag, Malcolm notices how warm he's getting and how he's starting to leak slick at an astounding rate. He's not sure if Gil smells the change or feels the heat and tension as his fingers continue to trail over Malcolm's skin, but he slides his hand down to palm at Malcolm's erection through his pants.

"Shit. I'm sorry, I should have knotted you," Gil apologizes. "I'm going to need some time before I can go again." The fact that Gil seems genuinely distressed about not having come inside of Malcolm makes him love the man even more. "We're going to need some toys. You have some, right?" 

Gil looks concerned suddenly, as if he's just realized that this is Malcolm's first ever heat and maybe he _doesn't_ have a chestful of toys tucked away somewhere to fuck himself silly on.

"Yes, Gil," Malcolm chuckles, "I have toys."


	6. Chapter 6

"Good. That's good," Gil says, getting to his feet and tugging Malcolm up along with him. 

The movement seems to amplify the smell of Gil that's coating him, and Malcolm moans as the scent of his Alpha floods his senses.

Gil leads them to the bedroom and yanks Malcolm's pants down to his knees before pushing him backwards onto the bed, Malcolm letting out a surprised "oh!" as he bounces against the mattress. When Gil pulls his pants the rest of the way off and shucks his own boxers, Malcolm spreads his legs in anticipation, waiting impatiently for whatever Gil has in mind.

"Where?" Gil asks tersely.

"Bottom of the trunk," Malcolm says as he points to the trunk at the foot of his bed. "Under the blankets."

Gil roots around in the trunk for a second, emerging with a grin and an ornate wooden box full of toys. Joining Malcolm on the bed, Gil lifts the lid and takes in the impressive array of toys and designer lubricants that Malcolm has amassed over the years.

If he wasn't so fucking desperate, Malcolm would have been embarrassed by the low whistle that Gil emits when he sees just how many toys Bright has. As it stands though, Malcolm is getting to the point that he's ready to grab just about anything to shove up his ass. He's contemplating doing just that when Gil asks, "Do you have a preference?"

"All of them?" Malcolm huffs, instantly feeling bad about the sharp edge to his voice, but not enough to actually apologize. This wave of his heat seems to be hitting harder than the others, leaving his skin prickling and tight and making him want to crawl right out of it. His entire body is screaming at him to get knotted, and the fact that he's not in the act of doing just that is making it hard to think, to breathe.

He reaches blindly into the box, grabbing the first thing his hand touches, a silicone prostate massager that's never let him down before. He may not have experienced a heat before, but he _is_ a red blooded male — and not exactly boyfriend material — which means he spends a lot of time pleasuring himself. Gil pulls it from his hand before he can get it anywhere near his hungry hole, pushing the box to the foot of the bed and settling on his knees between Malcolm's legs.

Malcolm's bucking his hips off the bed already, praying to God and all things holy that Gil doesn't chose this particular moment to be a gentleman. He's relatively certain he's going to start screaming soon, can feel it swelling in his chest like an overinflated balloon, but just as he sucks in a breath that he plans to let out in a despairing howl, Gil rams the toy into his ass with no warning at all.

It's hard and brutal and Gil spends no time warming him up, diving right in with the punishing thrusts that Malcolm's body is yearning for.

The howl that rips from Malcolm's throat is pure pleasure.

"This what you need, kid?" Gil's voice drops a couple octaves lower than normal and shoots right to Malcolm's cock. "Does this feel good?"

It's several thrusts before Malcolm can catch his breath to answer and by then Gil has flicked on the vibrations and Malcolm's air leaves him in a rush. If he had the ability to form a coherent thought, he might have asked how the hell Gil knew how to flawlessly hit his prostate with every thrust, but he can do little more than lay back and let the thrumming pulse shudder through his body as Gil pumps in and out of him with one purpose in mind. 

His orgasm is ripped from him so suddenly that it's almost painful in its pleasure. But even as the waves of release take him over, he knows it's not enough. He needs more. He'll always need more. And it's starting to feel like nothing will ever be enough. 

The thought of being like this forever — perpetually trapped in a state of never ending need and insatiable longing — all at once, it's too much.

"Gil," he can barely get the word out around the lump in his throat, only realizing he's crying as the teardrops begin to pool in his ears. "I can't—" He's not even sure how he was planning on finishing the sentence but it doesn't matter, because he can't force out another word around the sob that's forcing its way out of his chest.

"Shhhh, baby, it's okay," Gil says, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, "I've got you."

And he does.

He turns the vibrations up a notch and presses the prostate massager snug against the bundle of nerves inside of him. Malcolm jackknifes off the bed, his thoughts evaporating into a fine mist that shrouds Gil's movements until, without warning, there's something nudging at his hole next to the massager as Gil starts pushing one of Malcolm's dildos inside of him. The vibrations remain steady on his prostate as Gil starts to slowly pump the dildo in and out, making sure the ribbed silicone catches on Malcolm's rim with every tug.

The stretch is exactly what he needs, and finally begins to sate the burning need inside of him. The tension in his muscles remain the same, but the edginess behind them fades away as his pleasure builds with every thrust and every pulse.

"There we go," Gil whispers, and Malcolm can hear the relief that's hidden in the words. Gil is the perfect Alpha and knows what his Omega needs even better than Malcolm himself, but of course he would have been worried as Malcolm broke down into tears. 

Even through the fever and the fast-approaching orgasm, Malcolm feels a swell of love wash through him for the man that's giving him everything he could possibly need. He wants to tell him just how much he loves him, but a particularly well timed thrust of the dildo along with the staccato beat that's being tapped out on his prostate sends him careening into his next orgasm, muscles clenching tight around the toys while his mind becomes loose and languid.

He nearly cries out as Gil pulls the toys from his twitching hole, but of course Gil would never leave him empty and aching to be filled. He recognizes the plug Gil is pressing against him even with his eyes closed, but not because it's one that he uses often. It's one that he's never used at all. It's a knotting plug that he bought once when he was feeling particularly self-destructive and wanted to remind himself of what he'd never have. It was far too large for him to use, built to be inserted when an Omega's body was lax and stretched and ready to be claimed. But he kept it with his toys as a reminder of his deficiencies. He doesn't know if Gil realizes this (of course he does), or if he just reached for the first plug he could find, but suddenly the thick plug is filling him, stretching him obscenely wide over the toy as it breaches his body. When it's finally nestled perfectly inside of him, Gil tugs it back and forth a little, playfully toying with Malcolm's stretched hole.

"Mmm. Bright, you look so pretty all plugged up for me," Gil taps against the base of the plug a few times before moving to circle his finger around the edge, caressing Malcolm's sensitive rim and making him whimper. "It's okay. I'll take care of you."

Malcolm cries out as Gil pulls away, but it's only for a moment. Gil lays down on the bed and pulls Malcolm over until he's laying right on top of him, chests and bellies pressed together and giving Malcolm all the skin-to-skin contact that he needs.

Relaxed and filled, with the smell of his Alpha strong below him, and the warm hands lazily stroking his back, Malcolm is quick to doze off, knowing Gil will take care of him. Always.

When he wakes up, it's already dark outside, the glow of the streetlights below providing the only light in the room. Gil is still warm and soft beneath him but his hands have shifted from Malcolm's back to his calves where they're tucked beside Gil's hips, drawing light circles with his thumbs.

"How long was I asleep?" Malcolm asks, rubbing his cheek against Gil's skin. He still feels relaxed and perfect right now, but the buzz that's humming just below the surface reminds him that it won't last long.

"An hour? Maybe two?" Gil says and Malcolm can hear the smile in his voice.

"Shit. Sorry," Malcolm says, getting ready to roll off of Gil, even if he finds the idea of not being pressed up against him abhorrent. He feels guilty, though, for essentially trapping Gil beneath his weight for the last two hours. He didn't even have his phone nearby for something to do.

"Don't," Gil says quietly, wrapping his arms around Malcolm and holding him in place. "I like having you like this. I like watching you sleep and feeling your body relax." Gil doesn't say 'because of me', but Malcolm knows he's thinking it. The Alpha is proud of his ability to provide for Malcolm. As he should be.

Malcolm finally lifts his head from where it's resting over Gil's heart and looks up to find warm eyes gazing down at him. He shifts a little so he can lean up and kiss him, wincing at the pull of the come that's glued them together, but promptly forgetting all about it as one of Gil's hands moves to thread through his hair and their lips press together. 

They share lazy kisses, hands wandering aimlessly over each other's bodies wherever they can reach without having to break the contact of their lips. Malcolm doesn't even intend for it to become anything more, his fever still smoldering just below the surface, but when Gil's cock twitches and taps against the base of his plug, it shatters the tentative calm of his body. He gasps into Gil's mouth and realizes his body must be emitting some particularly intense pheromones because the answering scent from Gil would have knocked him off his feet if he hadn't already been laying on top of the Alpha.

Gil's hands drift down to his hips and his grip tightens as he struggles to control the urges that Malcolm knows are starting to consume the Alpha as Malcolm's heat amplifies Gil's arousal, which in turn, sends Malcolm deeper into the fever. It's a glorious feedback loop that Malcolm wants to submit to, but he needs Gil to stop fighting it.

In what is possibly the greatest feat of self control he's ever managed to muster, he rolls off of Gil's chest and lies flat on his back next to him, arms loose at his side and head turned away, baring his neck to the Alpha in a posture of total submission. The effect is immediate.

Gil fucking pounces.

Between one panting breath and the next, Gil tosses Malcolm's legs over his shoulders, yanks the plug out of his ass, and slams in with a groan.

It's hard and fast and feels like it's going to last until the end of time. Gil has more stamina than any lover, hired or otherwise, that Malcolm has ever had. It would be impressive in a man of Malcolm's age; for a man of Gil's age it's downright mind-blowing. Peering down the length of his body to watch as Gil pistons into him, Malcolm is mesmerized by the cut of the man's muscles (softened ever so slightly around the middle, but still beautifully defined), and by the light sheen that's glistening over his body, only serving to highlight the rich tones of his skin. He's beautiful. 

And he's Malcolm's. 

He moans at the thought, his cock dribbling precome onto his already crusted belly. Gil seems to take it as an invitation and wraps a hand around Malcolm's cock, pumping in counterpoint to the movement of his hips, drawing even more noises out of Malcolm, pitch rising with every stroke and thrust.

"That's it, kid," Gil encourages between heavy puffs of breath. "Let me hear how good it feels."

"Fuck. So good, Gil." Malcolm doesn't hold back, knowing that his pleasure — audible proof of his Alpha's ability to please — will only embolden Gil. He let's the rapture take him over and loses himself in the perfectly synchronized movement of their bodies as each man's pleasure fuels the other's. 

There's no way to note the passage of time, no clocks to tick the minutes away or moving shadows to mark the progress of the sun in the sky. Still, Malcolm is sure that they've been lost in this ever-expanding haze of bliss for hours. Even as slick as he is, he's feeling the delicious drag of Gil's cock against his inner walls and knows that they're going to need to end things soon before they're both raw and the next couple days become decidedly unpleasant.

"Gil. Alpha," Malcolm rasps, throat dry with dehydration. They're both drenched in sweat; it's dripping off of Gil and onto Malcolm, dripping off them both and soaking through the sheets. "Please, knot me. Breed me."

He turns his head away once again, displaying where a bonding mark would be placed. He knows Gil won't, but it doesn't stop the flutter in his belly as he thinks about Gil's teeth sinking into the gland there, claiming him as his own. When Gil's lips land just where he's imagining, when his teeth scrape over the spot — not hard enough to bond, but enough to make his intentions clear — Malcolm's pleasure crescendos and he comes with Gil's name on his lips.

Malcolm's orgasm is what finally gets Gil's knot to swell, faster than usual if Gil's increasingly resounding grunts are any indication. With only a few more pumps of his hips, his knot is pushing into Malcolm one last time before Gil can no longer force it through the ring of Malcolm's muscle. Malcolm's whimper as the knot stretches his abused hole is the nudge Gil needs and soon he's filling Malcolm with torrents of come.

Gil collapses on top of Malcolm, his shaking body lacking the strength to hold himself up. Malcolm doesn't mind, though. He's more than happy to accept some slightly laboured breathing in order to keep Gil in such close proximity.

It only takes a few minutes until Gil musters up enough strength to prop himself up on his elbows, but Malcolm tosses his arms around the man's neck and refuses to let him pull away any further.

"Christ kid," Gil huffs out a laugh, sounding just as dehydrated and exhausted as Malcolm. "I don't think I've fucked like that since I was a twentysomething Alpha with something to prove."

Malcolm's too drained to offer much more than a hum of acknowledgement. If he could lay there with his Alpha inside of him for the rest of eternity, he'd be the happiest Omega on the planet.

Even though Gil's knot stays buried in him longer than usual, it's still far too soon for Malcolm's liking that it begins to deflate, enough that his cock finally slips free. Malcolm's mewling cry at the loss is met with a thousand gentle kisses placed all over his face until he can't help the smile that's spreading over his face as Gil lavishes him with the love and affection that his biology is screaming for.

Gil doesn't rush, but he does eventually pull back enough to ask, "Do you wanna get cleaned up? The sheets are pretty wrecked."

It's entirely possible that there is nothing in the world that Malcolm wants less. He knows he'll probably feel pretty disgusting in the morning, but right now he's filled with Gil's seed, and the sheets smell like Gil and sex and it's everything he wants. It's only when Gil chuckles that he realizes he spoke his thoughts out loud and he blushes with the realization.

"That's fine, kid. Whatever you want," Gil lays another kiss to his forehead, before shifting to crawl out of the bed. "But we both need to drink some water. Stay put, I'll bring it to you."

Malcolm pouts at the loss of Gil's body heat but stops himself from complaining as Gil walks towards the kitchen on shaky legs and Malcolm realizes just how badly he probably needs the water. Instead of focusing on Gil's absence, he closes his eyes and shifts to bury his face in the damp sheets, breathing in their combined smells as he listens to the sounds of glasses clinking and the faucet in the kitchen rushing water.

It's not long at all before Gil is back and coaxing Malcolm to sit up, holding a large glass of water to his lips. As soon as the cold liquid hits his parched lips, Malcolm is scrambling for the glass, chugging it back like it's the last chance he'll ever have to quench his thirst.

"Whoa there, kid," Gil cautions, tilting the glass back so Malcolm doesn't essentially drown himself. "Take it easy, there's plenty more."

When the glass is drained, Gil pulls it away from Malcolm's lips and replaces it immediately with another full glass. Malcolm spares a thought for Gil's brilliance before he dives back in and chugs back the second glass as well. He collapses back against the bed as Gil returns to the kitchen and Malcolm hears the water running once again.

"Do you need more water right now, baby?" Gil's voice surprises him and he realizes he'd already started drifting off.

"No. Thank you," Malcolm replies, cracking an eye open to watch as Gil places two full glasses of water on the night stand before turning to look at Malcolm with a fond smile. 

"Need anything else before we settle in for the night?"

Malcolm's eyes drift down to where Gil's cock is lying flaccid against his thigh, but he's too damn tired for anything else tonight. He does suddenly think of how nice it would be to have those soft blankets from his trunk piled around them while they sleep. A quick request and Gil is piling the blankets around Malcolm in a way that satisfies him more than he would've expected.

"Sorry, Bright. I should've thought that you'd be nesting," Gil says as he climbs in next to Malcolm, pulling him so that he's lying half on top of the Alpha. "We'll have to change the sheets in the morning but the blankets should capture our scents pretty well tonight."

Malcolm hadn't even considered the idea. Of course he's familiar with the concept of nesting, but having never experienced it before, he didn't put two and two together. He feels a little silly for not having realized, but Gil's hands are warm on his back and the blankets are piled snug around them and Malcolm doesn't have much time to dwell on it before he's pulled into a deep and dreamless sleep.

The morning sun is warm on his back when Malcolm wakes up, arm thrown across Gil and head pillowed on his chest. He's delightfully sore, he finds, as he angles himself ever so slightly to the side so that he can look up at the man with whom he’d spent the night. 

The man he loves. 

He knows that the warm feeling spreading through his chest has nothing to do with the heat, but he also knows he never would have acted on his feelings if this unexpected heat hadn't happened. He thinks of how he could have spent the rest of his life pushing down his feelings and trying to ignore the faint ache in his heart every time he saw Gil. 

Malcolm never thought that he could be thankful for everything he went through with John Watkins, but the idea of living his life without ever having known Gil like this, without ever having told Gil that he loves him… it's far worse than everything that John did to him. 

He's considering if it would be appropriate to send a thank you card to the man when Gil's body adjusts ever so slightly beneath him. He can tell by the way the Alpha's chest rises and falls a little more rapidly that he's close to waking, and Malcolm takes the last few minutes before he wakes to commit the moment to memory. He's never been so happy.

Or horny.

That feeling of contentment from only moments ago is quickly shifting into something more, and he's surprised to find himself getting hard where he's pressed up against Gil's thigh. Without even thinking, he starts rolling his hips, searching for friction as he closes his eyes and buries his face in Gil's chest.

"Good morning to you, too," Gil chuckles, voice deep and raspy with sleep. 

Malcolm freezes, embarrassed at being caught humping the man's leg, but Gil just runs a warm hand up and down his spine, a silent encouragement to keep going. The fact that he doesn't feel the frenzy like he did yesterday — yet — makes Malcolm think that getting off like this might just be enough to sate the need for now.

He looks up into Gil's warm eyes and finds that he truly seems okay with the prospect of Malcolm rubbing himself off on him, so he gives an experimental roll of the hips while keeping eye contact and finds it infinitely more arousing. Watching Gil's tongue dart out to moisten his lips, the way his eyes fixate on Malcolm's face, searching for the tiniest spikes of pleasure, it all feeds into the ecstacy that's building unnaturally fast.

Soon, he's grunting as he wraps his arm tighter around Gil's waist, providing himself with more leverage to rut up against him, the hairs on Gil's thigh tickling Malcolm's length whenever he eases the pressure of his thrusts. He's getting close, but he needs something more. The thought must show on his face, because suddenly Gil is speaking, so quietly it's almost a whisper but still has the rumbling depth of his earlier words.

"Come on, Bright. Come for me, just like that. Just from rubbing up against me," Gil encourages as his hand dips lower, stroking from Malcolm's lower back and down over his cheeks, giving a firm squeeze with every pass. "Damn. You're so gorgeous like this. Needy and wanton. Wish I could keep you in my bed like this all the time. Have you always ready and waiting for me."

Fuck. The thought of that — of being nothing more than a warm body in Gil's bed for him to use whenever he wants — ratchets up the arousal coursing through his veins and he moans loudly before biting his lip to stop the noise. Gil immediately brings his free hand to Malcolm's mouth and pulls his lip free from his teeth, running a finger gently over the tender flesh.

"Let me hear you, Malcolm. Let me hear all the pretty sounds you make," Gil spurs him on, the hand on his back moving lower to spread his cheeks, "Show me how much you want me, kid. Come for me."

The pressure of Gil's finger on his hole pushes him over the edge and he comes all over Gil's leg with a satisfied groan. Gil moves his hand away from Malcolm's ass but continues to rub soothing circles up and down his back as he comes down from his high, until Malcolm eventually looks up at him sheepishly. He's about to apologize, but Gil cuts him off.

"Mmmm. That was perfect, kid. I love seeing you like this."

Malcolm feels his cheeks heat and looks away, nestling himself into the chest hair below his face. He feels Gil's chest shake below him as he holds back a laugh. Malcolm retaliates by playfully sinking his teeth into the nipple beside his face, which he turns into a slow lick at Gil's hiss.

"Do you want me to…" Malcolm asks, sliding a hand down Gil's stomach, inching seductively lower, all the while licking at the pebbled nipple in front of him. Gil stops the progress of his hand by linking their fingers together and bringing their joined hands to rest on his stomach.

"I'm good. Have a feeling I'm going to need to save my strength," Gil says, tilting his head to kiss Malcolm lightly on his forehead. "I think I'll take advantage of this little break to get cleaned up and check in with the team. Do you want the bathroom first?"

A cool shower actually sounds amazing, so Malcolm reluctantly pulls himself from the bed and pads off to the bathroom, smiling as he notices Gil start to strip the bedding, leaving the blankets folded lovingly atop the trunk, before he closes the door behind him. He's quick but thorough as he runs through his routine, making sure he's perfectly clean for his Alpha, even though the heatwet is continually leaving him messy. 

Although he knows he'll be staying locked safely inside for at least two more days, he still takes a little extra time to style his hair and dab on cologne, preening himself for Gil. When he's satisfied with how he looks, naked and prettied up for his Alpha, he leaves the bathroom to find Gil fluffing the pillows on the bed, clean sheets pulled taut across the mattress, with his nesting blankets back in place and ready to be curled into. That Gil already feels so comfortable in his apartment fills Malcolm with a warm, bone-deep contentment, making him wonder if this is what's been missing from his life all these years. If, just maybe, he can always feel this whole.


	7. Chapter 7

Because of the music that's floating through the apartment — one of Malcolm's Rat Pack records that Gil had turned on while Malcolm was in the shower — Gil doesn't hear Malcolm leave the bathroom, but Malcolm can tell _exactly_ when the older man scents him; his body tenses and his head shoots up, jerking towards Malcolm with a force that almost looks painful.

The spike of Gil's scent in the air, heavily weighted with an intense arousal, hits Malcolm so hard his legs go weak and he just barely keeps himself from toppling over. But then he realizes there's really no reason _not_ to drop to his knees for Gil, and so he does.

Gil's in front of him with a hand threaded through his hair before his knees even hit the hardwood, and Malcolm immediately moves in to rub his face over Gil's crotch, cursing the sweatpants that are keeping him separated from Gil's dick.

"Jesus, Bright, how can you smell so damn good after you just showered?" Gil asks, tugging the waistband of the pants down to sit just below his balls, freeing his cock for Malcolm to latch onto, which he does with impressive aplomb.

Gil only lets him go at it for a few minutes before he pulls him off by the hair, a trail of saliva connecting his swollen lips to the tip of Gil's cock. 

"Let me fill you," Gil offers as an explanation, slipping a hand under Malcolm's arm to help him to his feet and lead him to the freshly made bed.

Malcolm moves to crawl onto the bed on hands and knees, but Gil holds him back, setting a couple pillows against the headboard instead and dropping himself onto the bed amidst the pile of blankets. He settles up against the headboard, pillows propping up his back as he waves Malcolm over.

"Come ride my cock, city boy. Show me how it's done." Gil's eyes are dark with desire and Malcolm practically jumps onto the bed, straddling his hips and reaching between them to grab hold of Gil's cock. He holds Gil steady as he guides his dick towards his hungry hole, barely stopping to adjust as he slides down until Gil is balls deep inside of him.

"You feel amazing," Malcolm sighs, letting his eyes slide shut as he works his hips in tiny circles.

Gil glides his hands up and down Malcolm's thighs as he waits for Malcolm to start moving, the smooth caress quickly turning into the blunt scrape of nails, and Malcolm opens his eyes to see Gil looking down at where Malcolm is grinding in his lap. 

Fighting back the smirk that's curling his lips, Malcolm raises himself a couple of inches then drops himself back into the man's lap with a groan. The stretch is everything he wants and Malcolm is quick to raise himself up once again, farther this time, before he falls back onto Gil's cock. He slides his hands up onto his Alpha's shoulders, letting himself use the sturdy body beneath him for balance as he really begins to ride Gil's cock, his leaking slick making the slide absolutely perfect. He starts slow and steady, raising his hips until the tip of Gil's cock hooks on his rim, before lowering himself back down, keeping his eyes locked on Gil the entire time.

Gil's hands shift from running up and down his thighs to grasping Malcolm's slender hips, his grip getting progressively tighter with every slide of his cock into Malcolm's tight heat, so that by the time Malcolm starts to really bounce in Gil's lap, he's squeezing so hard that Malcolm is sure it's going to leave perfect, finger-shaped bruises behind. Thinking of how he'd look with proof of Gil's claim marking his body has Malcolm groaning, and suddenly Gil is bucking up into him, meeting him with every slide.

He rides until his thighs are burning and he's dizzy with lust, and right when he doesn't think he's going to be able to raise and lower himself even one more time, Gil tugs him in to lean on his shoulder. Malcolm can feel him plant his feet on the mattress and then Gil is slamming up into him, his knot filling rapidly, and soon they're joined and both men are coming, their mutual release making their orgasms even more intense.

When his cock finally stops spurting, Malcolm falls bonelessly into Gil's arms, enjoying the feeling of Gil's hands roaming over his back until they land on his ass cheeks, falling to rest on the firm muscles.

"How are you feeling today?" Gil asks quietly, nuzzling against Malcolm's hair.

"Better now," Malcolm laughs, but he's only partially joking. He _does_ actually feel better now that Gil's knotted him, not that he wasn't feeling amazing before that. It's just that he now feels fulfilled and far more clear headed. "Actually, while I'm not in the middle of the fever, what did you find out about the case?"

Gil sighs, exasperation clear in the force of the breath, but his tone is resigned as he says, "You really want to discuss a string of serial murders while my knot is buried inside of you?"

Malcolm leans back to look the man in the eye, wanting to make sure he's not actually upset before he responds. The quirk of Gil's eyebrow and the pull on one side of his mouth tells Malcolm that, while he may be a little put off by the idea, he's not actually opposed to it. Gil is practical enough to understand that they're going to need to take their breaks when they get them, he rolls his eyes but relents immediately. 

"I haven't called in yet," Gil says but then pauses, his eyebrows furrowing as he realizes something that doesn't sit well with him. "Actually, I haven't even checked my phone since last night. Damn it, I was supposed to be keeping up with the progress on the case."

Malcolm can see the disappointment with himself for abandoning his team spreading over Gil's features, but more than that, he can smell the change in the man's scent and it's physically painful for Malcolm, tied as he is with him at the moment. As wonderful as it is to be under the influence of Gil's more pleasurable emotions, the force of anything negative seems to be tenfold what he would expect.

His body hesitates, torn between the pleasure and contentment he was feeling only moments ago that makes him want to burrow as deeply as he can into Gil, and the crushing weight of Gil's anger with himself that's causing the overwhelming urge to slink away.

"Hey, hey, hey," Gil says quietly, shifting back to carer, overriding anything else he might be feeling, as he wraps strong arms around Malcolm, keeping him from shaking out of his skin. "I'm sorry, baby."

"It hurts," Malcolm whimpers.

"I'm sorry," Gil apologizes again, holding him even tighter against his chest. Malcolm can feel an undercurrent of guilt beneath everything else, and he somehow knows that _this_ guilt is for causing his Omega pain.

Gil holds him until he calms, until it doesn't feel completely immersed in Gil's emotions anymore.

"Does it always feel like this?" Malcolm whispers when he's not afraid that the tremble in his voice will betray just how shaken he is. He doesn't ever recall any of his fellow Omegas talking about feeling their partner's emotions quite so keenly.

"Not really," Gil says quietly, "at least, not that I've ever seen." He's still running his hands over Bright's body everywhere he can reach, a soothing touch that's working to relax his tense muscles. "You seem to be far more receptive than most Omegas, and I'm going to have to keep that in mind. You don't do anything by halves, do you, kid?"

Malcolm chuckles weakly against Gil's shoulder where his head is still resting. He's not wrong. Malcolm does have a tendency to go to extremes, whether he means to or not. It's fine though, because Gil's knot inside of him, his hands all over him, and the soft kisses he's occasionally pressing to Malcolm's hair are working wonders to soothe him and get him back to his former state of blissed relaxation.

"We should call JT and Dani," Malcolm offers after a couple minutes of basking in the sensations. With more than a little effort, he pulls himself back from Gil and reaches over to grab the man's phone from the night table.

Gil's eyebrows fly up in an expression of shock that has Malcolm biting down on his lip to keep from giggling.

"I'm sorry, you want me to call my subordinates while I'm still _inside of you_?" Gil says incredulously, shock evident in every aspect of his being.

Malcolm takes a moment to compose himself, knowing that laughing right now is going to do the exact opposite of what he wants. "Gil, I can feel the fever building already. If we don't do it now we're not going to be able for, uh, a while." Malcolm rolls his hips and clenches his inner muscles around Gil's knot, milking the man of more of his ejaculate with a groan.

"For fuck's sake," Gil grumbles under his breath, but Malcolm can tell he's already convinced him. Gil pulls up Dani's number on his phone but looks up sternly at Malcolm before he presses the call button. "Sit still."

It's an order, not a request, and Malcolm couldn't disobey even if he wanted to. Which he really, really doesn't want to do, anyways. It's one thing for JT and Dani to know what's happening in broad strokes, but it's entirely different to have them know the intimate details, and that's a line he most assuredly does _not_ want to cross. He wouldn't have even suggested calling right now if it wasn't for the fact that he can feel the heat building inside of him, gathering momentum as it grows and swells, and he knows he doesn't have long before it consumes him once again.

At Malcolm's nod, Gil thumbs the call button and puts the phone on speaker between them.

"Powell," Dani says distractedly, and Gil instantly goes on alert. She's clearly not in the precinct or she would've taken the time to check her caller ID.

"It's Gil. What's going on," Gil asks brusquely, his free hand tightening on Malcolm's hip.

"Oh, hey boss," Dani says, turning her attention from whatever she was doing to focus on the conversation with Gil. "We're wrapping up the search of Oliver Fernsby's home right now, but haven't found anything incriminating. Techs are combing his computer, but that's gonna take a little more time."

With a slight frown, Gil flicks to his text messages and sees a number of missed messages from both JT and Dani. Malcolm can feel his frustration building but Gil quickly tamps it down, taking a deep breath and cracking his neck as Dani speaks. Malcolm places his hands on either side of Gil's face and leans in to plant a kiss on his forehead, keeping his hips perfectly still as he does.

"What about his office?" Malcolm asks as Gil relaxes and offers a small smile. 

"JT is checking there now, but it sounds like it's the same deal," Dani says, unsurprised. "Techs are looking over his work computer, too." The bustle in the background suddenly gets a little quieter and Malcolm has a feeling that Dani has stepped away from the team that's searching Fernsby's house. "You guys doing okay?"

Bright smiles at Gil and drops a chaste kiss to his lips, trying to convey that, as far as he's concerned, things couldn't possibly be better. But even that minimal contact shoots straight to Malcolm's cock and he pulls back to take a calming breath.

"We're both fine," Gil says simply, choosing to keep their private life private. "Is there anything we can help with from here?"

"Not just yet, but I'll let you know if that changes," Dani says before a voice in the background interrupts her. "Uh, I gotta go boss, I'll keep you posted."

"Good work, Powell," Gil says, tossing his phone back to the nightstand after the call disconnects.

As soon as the phone is out of his hand, Malcolm leans in to take Gil's earlobe between his teeth, tugging lightly as he flicks the tip of his tongue against the bottom edge of his ear. "Can I move now, Alpha?" Voice low and sultry, Bright presses cheek to cheek with Gil as he asks, the words floating directly to Gil's cock, which gives a jerk inside of Malcolm's body.

Gil's still locked inside of Malcolm, still occasionally releasing more of his seed deep in his body, so it's not like Malcolm can get good and fucked just yet, but when Gil's fingers dig into Malcolm's ass and he murmurs his approval, Malcolm starts to move. He lifts his hips slightly, until Gil's knot pulls almost painfully at his rim, and then drops back down. 

He does it again, biting hard on his lip against the sharp pang as Gil's knot stretches and pulls against him, but then Gil's hands are gripping his hips hard and pulling him back down into his lap. 

"What are you doing?" Gil's eyebrows furrow as he sets his detective's gaze on Malcolm.

Bright rocks in Gil's lap, movement restricted as strong hands hold him down, keep him from pulling off of Gil's dick at all. 

"Wanna feel you," Malcolm throws his head back as he grinds his hips down against Gil. It doesn't give him the pounding that he wants, but the slight friction against his rim and the way that Gil's cock runs along his inner walls is enough to get Malcolm revved up as he lets the fever claim him, unchallenged.

"I don't want to hurt you, kid," Gil says seriously.

Frankly, Malcolm doesn't really care at this point. He'll take whatever his Alpha sees fit to give him, and if that's some pain to compliment the pleasure, that's fine by him. But before he can try to find a way to express that, Gil is running his hand around where they're connected, gathering some of Bright's leaking slick and then wrapping that hand around Malcolm's cock in a surprisingly firm grip.

Gil sets a fast pace, pumping Malcolm mercilessly as he continues to hold him down with his other hand, preventing him from pulling on his knot. Without Gil's cock pounding into him, though, it's not quite enough.

As hard as he tries to hold it back, a low whine issues from the back of his throat, embarrassingly needy, but, like the rocking of his hips, he can't make it stop. The heat is consuming him, burning him alive from the inside out, igniting all rational thoughts and leaving him merely a shell, a body that needs to be filled and nothing more.

"Shhh, you're okay," Gil says, not for a second slowing the pace of his hand. He pulls Malcolm's head down to his shoulder keeping his warm hand firmly on the back of his neck. "I've got you."

Gil's voice helps, somehow. Hearing his Alpha speak has an immediate comforting effect on him and the whimper cuts off at the simple words. Gil seems to realize this at the same time Malcolm does, judging by the slight hitch in his breathing and the small "oh," that escapes his lips.

"You need me to talk you through this one, baby?" Gil asks, and then continues after Malcolm nods against his shoulder. "God, you're sexy like this, stretched so wide on my knot, while I fill you up and breed you. I wish I could keep you like this forever, impaled on my dick and taking my seed like such a good little Omega."

Malcolm's not sure what's turning him on more. The idea of being held down on Gil's cock forever, or being told he's a good little Omega. The words spark something in him that he's not sure he's ever felt, and he wants nothing more than to be a good Omega for Gil. He moans and bucks his hips as best he can.

"You're being so perfect for me, Bright. Your tight little ass squeezing around me and milking me, getting my seed buried so deep inside of you, like a good Omega should." Gil runs his thumb over the head of Malcolm's cock on his next pass up, gathering up the precum that's leaking out obscenely and using it to coat his cock, easing the slide of his hand. "And look at your dick leaking for me, showing me just how much you love having me locked inside you."

And it's true. He does. Having Gil locked inside of him is everything he's ever wanted.

"This is what you want, isn't it?" Gil says, like he's reading Malcolm's mind. "You want me to stay inside of you forever, hmm? Want to wrap yourself around me and feel my dick deep inside of you, rubbing against that sweet spot inside until you can't even remember your own name? Want me to claim you as mine and use you like an Omega was made to be used?" Gil runs his teeth along Malcolm's neck, biting down harder than he maybe should if he's not intending on bonding with Malcolm.

"Fuck. Gil, please. Do it." He's so breathlessly turned on that the words are hardly more than a whisper.

Malcolm nearly cries when Gil pulls his mouth away from the bonding gland, but he only moves far enough away that he can whisper in Malcolm's ear.

"I want that, too, kid. When this heat is over, if you still want it, I'll claim you as mine," Gil's words steal Malcolm's breath away as his hand pumps even harder, "I love you, Malcolm."

Bright comes so hard his vision goes white and he just barely feels himself slump onto Gil's chest before white fades to black.

He comes to slowly, perfectly sated. Without even thinking about it, he turns his nose to the crook of Gil's neck, breathing in his scent as deeply as he can manage, filling himself completely with his Alpha. He's trying his damndest to push away the nagging thought that Gil only said what he said to get Malcolm off, but the idea is gaining traction and a lump forms in his stomach at the possibility that Gil didn't mean it.

"Hey," Gil says firmly, "None of that. I meant what I said, Bright." His hands are settled warm and steady on Malcolm's lower back and Malcolm relaxes against his Alpha, unaware that he'd begun to tense up.

"Really?" Malcolm asks quietly, afraid, as always, that everything good in his life is a mistake that will quickly be rectified. 

Gil kisses the side of Malcolm's forehead and murmurs, "Really. I love you, kid. Have for a while now. I just…"

Gil doesn't need to finish the thought. Their relationship is complicated and unique, and comes with a multitude of issues that require delicate work arounds. Malcolm realizes there's a very real possibility that they've been pining after one another for years, afraid to say anything that could damage what they already had. He knows it's one of many reasons that _he_ never said anything.

Malcolm can feel that Gil's knot is slowly starting to deflate and hates the thought that he'll no longer be joined so closely with him, but Gil's admission of love is filling him in a way that even the Alpha's cock can't, and the fever somehow feels a tiny bit less desperate. He pulls back and looks Gil in the eye, soaking in the love that, now that he's looking for it, is so damn obvious that he kicks himself for not having known all along.

"I love you," Malcolm leans in to kiss Gil.

"I love you, too," Gil smiles, holding Malcolm close as they exchange kisses that feel so much more intimate now that they've said those words.

The day passes in a hazy bliss of love making, showing one another just how much they love each other as Bright's heat keeps them in bed until early in the evening. They do manage a few breaks, long enough for Gil to get a glass of water into Malcolm and maybe even a bite or two of food — food from Gil's own plate that he feeds to Malcolm with his fingers — and for Gil to shoot a few texts back and forth with the team.

It's during one of these breaks, shortly before sundown, that Gil calls in for an update. Gil is propped up against the headboard with Malcolm settled in the vee of his legs, his back pressed up against Gil's chest, and Gil's arms wrapped snug around him. Malcolm is boneless against Gil, having just come down from an intense orgasm that Gil wrung out of him with a dildo and the prodigious use of his mouth, and it's the calmest he's felt all day.

"Hey, Gil," Dani answers on the first ring, "I was just about to shoot you a text. You good?"

"We're good, Powell, thanks. You're on speaker," Gil says, his fingers absently trailing circles on Malcolm's skin that leave him sleepy and serene and he closes his eyes as they talk with Dani and JT, who soon appears on the line. "What have you got?"

"Techs found something on Oliver's computer. We need to dig into a little more," Dani cautions, keeping their expectations realistic, "but it looks like it could be a good lead."

"Dude was an active member of an online chat group for disgruntled Alphas," JT sneers, and Malcolm can hear the disdain ringing clearly through the phone line.

"Disgruntled about what?" Gil asks, his gentle touch making it embarrassingly difficult for Malcolm to concentrate.

"Looks to be a group of like-minded Alphas that think Omegas were created to service their every need," JT says and Malcolm can easily envision the scowl on the detective's face. "They basically go on and bitch about any Omegas that have scorned them, then spout about how they're all either whores or bottom feeders that are getting above their station."

Gil's arms tighten protectively around Malcolm as JT speaks, but Malcolm is fairly sure the Alpha doesn't even know he's doing it. The need to protect is so deeply ingrained in Gil that just hearing talk of people disparaging Omegas is enough to put him on the defensive.

Malcolm does his best to calm himself in an attempt to calm Gil, and it seems to work. The arms around him loosen and he can feel Gil's heart rate lower, where they're pressed skin to skin. 

"There's _a lot_ to read through," Dani says, sounding less than pleased about having to shift through that much garbage, "but if he killed Christian, and the others, I'd be willing to bet he bragged about it on here."

"You think he'd be stupid enough to admit he's a murderer to a bunch of strangers?" Gil asks.

"Maybe not outright," JT answers and takes a calming breath before he says, "but you should see the shit they write about what these Omegas deserve. It's fucking sick."

Malcolm can feel the anger building in Gil and rubs his thumb back and forth over Gil's thigh, trying to distract him. He finds himself slightly breathless with Gil's rage as he interjects, "Actually, the anonymity of being online often allows people to admit things they would never say in real life." Gil obviously senses Malcolm's discomfort and is making a conscious effort to calm himself down, his pheromones losing the sharp edge that felt like it was cutting into Malcolm's skin. Both of their bodies relax as Malcolm continues to speak, "So there's a distinct possibility that he may have relived the murders online, possibly in terms of what he'd like to do to these specific Omegas. Which means there's a strong likelihood that he would have let something slip that will tie him to the murders."

"Great," JT huffs, "Guess that means we'll be spending the next day or so reading all this filth."

Malcolm's heart goes out to them both, but he knows this will be especially hard on JT, who will be thinking about his sister with every awful comment that he reads. It's not going to be a pleasant task.

"We could help filter through some of the transcripts from here, if you—" Malcolm begins but is cut off almost immediately by a chorus of "nope" and "no fuckin way", punctuated by a growl deep in Gil's chest that says it's definitely not happening.

He's not sure if they're trying to protect him because he's an Omega or because of his current situation, but Gil finishes the call before he has a chance to ask.

"Good work guys, keep us in the loop with what you find," Gil says quickly, "and don't work too late." Gil cuts off the call and drops the phone back on the nightstand before any of them had a chance to say goodbye.

Malcolm is about to argue that he's not some delicate flower that needs to be kept under glass, but as soon as the phone is out of Gil's hands, he's wrapping his arms tightly around Malcolm's chest, holding him close and breathing him in. Though he feels stupid for not having realized it sooner, Malcolm suddenly understands just how difficult it would have been for Gil to go through those transcripts when their emotions are running so high. And he can admit, if only to himself, that he's glad the team didn't take him up on his offer. He's not entirely sure he could have handled it right now, either.

But he doesn't have the chance to stew on it for long, because Gil's lips are suddenly on his neck and the soft press of his lips against Malcolm's skin sends him headfirst into a fever and all he wants is Gil's knot.

Gil can obviously feel the change in Malcolm's body and is quick to flip them over and down in the bed so that Malcolm is face down on the mattress beneath him, Gil's weight pressing on top of him.

"Oh God. Gil. Please," Malcolm begs, clawing at the sheets below him, "Give it to me hard."

Gil obliges.

He pushes into Malcolm in one firm thrust, and before Malcolm has even finished moaning, he's pulled back and slammed back in so hard that it forces the breath from Malcolm's lungs, leaving him grinning wildly as he sucks in a breath to fill his lungs. 

Gil goes hard and fast, pistoning into his body so forcefully that Malcolm can feel his Alpha's sweat dripping onto him with the energy he's expending. 

He wants every part of Gil on him and in him and is begging for more, unaware he's even talking until he hears himself pleading to be held down. Gil, as always, gives Malcolm exactly what he needs.

He pulls Malcolm's hands to the small of his back and holds them in place with one large hand, then goes even further by planting his forearm across Malcolm's shoulders, pinning him down so hard that Malcolm couldn't move if he wanted to. And he does it all without breaking the punishing pace he's setting. 

Malcolm struggles at first, testing Gil's hold on him and finding it unbreakable. It's perfect. He lets his body go lax, allows Gil to use him unchallenged, and a frisson of pleasure shoots straight to his balls as Gil grunts low and long at his submission.

As fit as Gil is, he can't keep the pace and position forever, and Malcolm can feel him beginning to slow down, his breaths becoming ragged after several minutes of fucking Malcolm so hard that he's reduced to nothing more than a vessel for pleasure. Gil keeps him pinned down a little longer, thrusts slowing but still punching in hard until he pulls out completely and drops beside Malcolm, tugging him over so that Malcolm is on top with his knees planted on either side of Gil’s hips. He quickly lines up his cock and pulls Malcolm down on him, but before Malcolm can start riding, Gil crosses Malcolm's arms behind his back and takes a firm hold of each wrist so Malcolm is once again pinned in Gil's grasp.

"Fuck yourself on my dick, Bright," Gil pants out, still winded from taking Malcolm so hard, "come on my cock."

It's a challenge, Malcolm realizes, and the way Gil is holding Malcolm means that there's no hand free to stroke his cock. If he's going to get off, it's going to have to be from riding Gil alone. It takes a few tries of raising and lowering himself on Gil's cock to find a rhythm and balance that works for him since he can't make use of his hands to steady himself, but Gil provides a perfect counterbalance, holding him tightly enough that he feels secure in his movements, and it's not long before he's impaling himself on Gil's cock.

The drag inside of him with every movement is enough to have him panting and moaning, but it's Gil's grip tight on his wrists that's sending him skyrocketing towards orgasm. The longer Malcolm goes, the tighter the grip becomes, turning proprietorial in a way that makes Malcolm's cock drool as it bounces between them. At this point, Malcolm would be fine if he never comes, so long as he can keep riding Gil like this, with Gil's knot tugging deliciously at his rim, until his body gives out.

But when Gil starts to come inside of him, his grasp on Malcolm's wrist turning vice-like and tugging down to yank Malcolm even further onto his cock, the way his shoulders are forced to arch back hits him at just the right angle and almost immediately he's shooting his load across Gil's stomach and chest, kept from collapsing forward only by Gil's hands. When Gil finally does let go — when the first wave of his come is pooling warm and wet inside of Malcolm — he drops like a stone onto Gil's chest.

He's completely and utterly spent, lost in a drunken haze of endorphins that leaves him boneless and spaced out as Gil holds him firmly in his arms. With Gil's warmth surrounding him completely — skin pressed chest to chest and belly to belly, strong arms crossed over his back, and thick cock lodged inside of him — Malcolm feels wonderfully claimed. 

"You good, baby?" Gil whispers against his ear.

"Mmmm," is the absolute best he can manage, and Gil chuckles low in his chest, the vibration shaking through Malcolm's body where his own chest is snug against Gil.

"You wanna sleep a little, kid?" Gil asks.

And fuck, if the thought of sleeping with Gil still inside of him isn't the most perfect notion…

He shimmies his hips, trying to take Gil as deep as he possibly can before he lets himself let go and floats away, riding the waves of contentment that are tugging him towards unconsciousness. With his face buried once again in the crook of Gil's neck, his Alpha's scent is like an undercurrent he can no longer fight.


	8. Chapter 8

It feels like forever, or maybe it's only a matter of seconds, before he's distantly aware of the tinkle of glass coming from the direction of his door. He's too blissed out to pay it any mind, though, even though there's a niggling voice at the back of his mind whispering that something's wrong.

His eyes shoot open when Gil shouts, the sound slamming painfully through his entire being as the rush of fear and anger emanating off of Gil sinks into Malcolm's pores and burns like acid. 

He doesn't understand what's happening as Gil's arm wraps tight around his lower back and suddenly they're tipping sideways. There's so much shouting, and so much Alpha energy flooding the room that it's suffocating him, and his instincts are screaming at him to _run_ and _hide_. He tries to pull away, tries to throw himself to the floor, but the sudden blinding pain inside of him leaves him screaming and sobbing and trapped where he is.

Through a haze of tears he sees Gil fumbling on the nightstand for his gun, and it's only then that he notices the presence of another man in the room, another Alpha in the room, directly beside the bed.

It's too much, too many emotions, too many pheromones. He's clutching at Gil and trying to push him away at the same time, both actions leaving him feeling broken and terrified. He's trying to scream but it keeps getting choked off by gasping sobs, and he can't make sense of anything that's being yelled around him.

By the time the gunshot echoes through the room, Malcolm is in utter agony and it's all too much like John's knife stabbing into his body and _twisting_ , and suddenly he's finding it hard to suck in any air.

He's thrashing and gasping for breath, but every time he tries to pull away, Gil's knot threatens to rip him open. Suddenly there are strong arms holding him tight, one wrapped around his hips and the other around his upper back, both arms pulling him down almost painfully, but it keeps his body from shifting, the ache inside of him slowly fading away. 

"Bright, baby, please talk to me," Gil pleads, and judging by the desperation in his tone, it's far from the first time he's called out to him.

Malcolm can't answer, still can't even breathe right, though it's slowly getting better. He's not fighting to get away anymore, but only realizes this when the arm around his shoulders drops away and his body doesn't automatically try to pull back. With that realization, he starts becoming aware of exactly how his body is feeling.

His forehead is pressed hard to Gil's collarbone, his back curled out from where he's still firmly planted on the Alpha's knot. His fingernails are digging hard into Gil's shoulders, hard enough to draw blood from every crescent mark he's leaving behind on Gil's skin. Beyond that, there's a tremor jittering through him from head to toe, like his bones are trying to shake away his skin. 

And he hurts.

Every inch of every part of his body, inside and out, throbs and stings and burns and aches.

It startles him when Gil begins to speak, though he quickly makes out that he's on the phone. In the near silence of the room, he can make out Dani's voice on the other end of the phone, only cut off by Gil's curt orders and his own whimpers. 

"Powell, I need you to get to Malcolm's place now, and I need you to call dispatch and let them know not to send unis to respond to the calls of shots fired." Gil says quickly, an edge of desperation to the authoritative tone. "I think our killer just paid us a visit."

There's a pause where Malcolm can clearly hear Dani curse before her words just fade to background noise.

"Look," Gil interrupts whatever she was saying, "the killer is down. I don't want anyone but you coming through this door. Is that understood?"

Malcolm tunes out the rest of the conversation. Focusing instead on calming his breathing and trying to release his death grip on Gil. He has a foggy understanding that things are about to get difficult, and knows that the reason Gil asked for Dani to come alone is because she's a Beta that will register as family for both of them, but even still, having another person nearby is going to be a problem for both him and Gil.

He thinks back to the wave of emotions that hit him when the other Alpha was in the room, the man's anger and hatred rolling off him and slamming into Malcolm, and he begins to shake even harder. Gil must be off the phone, because his arm wraps back around Malcolm's shoulders, holding him tight as he tries to reassure him in low, calming tones.

"It's okay now, kid, you're safe. I've got you." Gil's grip helps to quell the shaking a little, but Malcolm is still reeling and feels so adrift that he's not sure he'll ever find his way back. "You're okay. I won't let anyone hurt you."

He's not sure how much time passes like this, with Gil's words and strong arms acting as a balm where Malcolm feels splayed open and raw. Eventually, Malcolm pries his fingernails out of Gil's skin and tucks his arms beneath him, trapped between his chest and Gil's, sinking into his Alpha so it feels like Gil is completely enveloping him.

Malcolm senses Dani's presence before she even knocks lightly on the door, and he tenses up with the worry that she's already emitting. As a Beta, her pheromones are considerably weaker, but in Malcolm's current state, even her pheromones hit him like a ton of bricks and have him nearly hyperventilating all over again. 

"Come in," Gil practically growls, Malcolm's intense fear setting off the protector in him and making him far more aggressive than he needs to be.

Dani approaches slowly but even still, Malcolm can feel Gil tense beneath him. It doesn't matter that she's family, that she's safe. All that matters is someone is encroaching on the Alpha's territory and frightening his Omega.

When he becomes aware of the cold brush of steel resting against his hip, Malcolm is suddenly keenly aware that this situation could escalate very quickly. He hadn't realized that Gil was still gripping the gun, but it makes sense. Wired up as he is, the man is willing to do whatever it takes to protect what is his; of course he's going to hold onto his weapon.

"Uh, Gil," Dani says very quietly, and Malcolm can hear that she's staying a respectful distance away. "Would you mind putting the gun down?"

Gil snarls and tightens his grip on both Malcolm and the gun, and Malcolm hears Dani take two quick steps back as the Alpha's fury hits her. He knows that he's the only one that can de-escalate the situation, but he's still so fucking afraid and his body still feels like he's been beaten and burned and he doesn't have the capability to emit any soothing pheromones when he's like this.

So with a Herculean effort, he pulls his face back from Gil's chest and looks his Alpha in the eye. Even knowing that the depth of rage he sees in the black of Gil's eyes has nothing to do with him, he still shrinks back before he can stop himself. The movement draws Gil's full attention from where it had been previously split between him and Dani, and his brows crease in concern. 

"Gil," Malcolm whispers, "Alpha." He's having trouble choking the words out, but brings his hands up to either side of Gil's face and leans in, brushing their lips together as the tears flow down his face, "Please. I need you."

It's like a crushing weight is lifted from him as some of Gil's anger is replaced with the love that he obviously feels so deeply. Malcolm sobs against his mouth as he slides his hand from Gil's face, down to where his arm is draped across Malcolm's lower back, feeling his way by touch alone to where the gun is wrapped tightly in the Alpha's hand. He slowly coaxes Gil to release the weapon, and, without moving his lips from Gil's, wraps his hand around the barrel and holds it out to the side for Dani to come collect.

He can tell she's moving cautiously, even with his eyes closed. It takes several seconds for her to pull the gun from his hand, and then she backs up immediately. 

"Boss," she says, and Malcolm can hear that her head is bowed, whether in deference to his position as Alpha and Lieutenant, or to afford them the illusion of privacy, Malcolm is unsure, "how do you want me to handle this?"

"Don't let anyone else in here yet," Gil's voice is strained but he keeps his tone level, his breath brushing over Malcolm's lips in clipped puffs. "Get CSU ready. As soon as we're no longer knotted, we'll—" 

All three of them are aware that there's no good answer for what to do next. They can't stay in the middle of a crime scene. And with the number of techs and officers that are going to be flooding in and out of the apartment, they can't even wait it out upstairs. Granted, Gil may be on more of an even keel once he's no longer actively breeding Malcolm, but their emotions are running way too high for it to be safe to have anyone in the apartment with them. It's also asking for trouble for them to leave the apartment and risk running into anyone else, especially another Alpha.

"Just keep everyone out for now," Gil finally says.

Dani hesitates, clearly unsure about saying anything more, but eventually asks, "Are either of you hurt?"

Malcolm lays his cheek on Gil's shoulder, blocking the man's view of Dani and still keeping them as connected as he can, as he finally looks over to Dani. He can see how worried she is, and not just about her safety or the corpse on the floor, that Malcolm only now notices is missing the right side of his face. She's worried for _him_. He realizes that she hasn't spoken directly to him — ensuring she doesn't give Gil a reason to become any more possessive than he already is — but the fear in her eyes is entirely for him. He knows he must look awful, tearstained and hiccuping little sobs, unable to move from where he's clearly joined with Gil. He follows her lead, choosing not to address her directly, but he offers her a watery smile and places a small kiss to Gil's shoulder, hoping she understands that he's still Gil's and wouldn't want it any other way.

She gives him a hesitant nod and waits anxiously for an answer from Gil. Malcolm expects him to send her away, but instead, his grip on Malcolm softens a fraction and he says, "How badly are you hurt? Do you need to see a medic?"

The thought of anyone but Gil touching him right now makes Malcolm want to vomit, and he turns his face back to Gil, huffing a protest at the thought. His mind is slowly clearing but he still feels thoroughly unable to form a coherent sentence that could possibly explain how appalling he finds the idea.

Dani leaves soon after that, presumably reassured of Malcolm's safety. Her scent fades quickly, weak as it was to begin with, and Gil's body finally starts to uncoil. The more Gil relaxes, the more Malcolm calms down, and it's not long before his tears finally stop and his breath no longer catches on each inhale.

"Baby, we need to talk about what we want to do here," Gil says when his knot finally begins to deflate. They're going to have to make a decision. Soon. The police force has rules and guidelines in place for dealing with crime scenes involving an Omega in heat or an Alpha in rut, granting them a bit of leniency in the amount of time they have, but they aren't going to be able to stay there to wait out the remainder of Malcolm's heat. They need to leave.

The thought makes Malcolm queasy, but he knows Gil is right. "Can we go to your place?" he sighs, hating the idea of getting there, but loving the idea of being surrounded by all things Gil. 

"Okay," Gil agrees, dropping kisses to Malcolm's hair. "Are you okay with Dani driving us?"

Though Malcolm doesn't love the idea, he knows he'll be fine. He's not so sure about Gil. "Do you, um. Do you need me to shower?" He doesn't want to, but if lessening his scent, _their_ scent, will help make the transition easier for Gil, he'll do it.

"Christ, kid, I love you so much." Gil gives Malcolm a squeeze, "But no, I don't want you to shower." 

Gil's knot is almost fully deflated, and Malcolm knows it's almost time. He rubs himself against Gil, soaking up as much of his Alpha's scent as he can before his softened cock slips out. 

They move as one, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible. They exit the bed on the side closest to the window, away from the body that's cooling on the floor, and dress quickly, never straying more than a foot from one another as they move. While Gil puts on the slacks and turtleneck he'd been wearing when he first arrived at Malcolm's apartment, Malcolm tosses on the softest sweatpants and t-shirt he can find.

"Is there anything you need to bring with us?" Gil asks as his hand cards through Malcolm's hair, straightening out the intense bedhead that's left Malcolm looking ruffled and well-fucked.

"Um. The toys?" While embarrassed to be thinking about sex toys when a man has just been killed, he can already feel the heat gaining in intensity and knows that he's still going to need the toys to get through the next day or two. With Gil's arm around Malcolm's shoulder, they pack up the toys that are strewn about the room, gathering everything back into the box for easy transport.

When they've finished, Gil takes one of Malcolm's blankets, the softest of the pile they've been scenting, and drapes it around Malcolm's shoulders, tugging him into a gentle kiss with the edges of the blanket. 

"You ready?" Gil asks, and Malcolm is pleased to note that Gil seems much more like himself, a little more in control and collected. He's hopeful that the ride won't be as bad as he was initially expecting.

"Not really?" Malcolm chuckles weakly, but nods his agreement, trailing behind Gil as the man leads them out of the bedroom, carefully avoiding the spreading pool of blood as they move to the entry. Gil places down the toy box long enough to pull on his shoes and make a call to Dani, letting her know they're coming down and asking if she'd mind taking care of Sunshine for a few days, and then they're on their way.

Every step they take down to street level increases Malcolm's anxiety, and he shuffles ever closer to Gil until he's tucked up against him and navigating the steps becomes surprisingly difficult.

When they reach the main floor, Malcolm is expecting to exit to the sight of patrol cars, an ambulance, forensics vans, crowds of people. 

None of that is there.

All that's waiting for them is an SUV, the back door already open and Dani in the driver's seat, looking to the pair of them with equal parts apprehension and resolve.

At Gil's urging, Malcolm gets in first, sliding across the seat and behind Dani. As soon as Gil has followed him in and closed the door behind them, Malcolm scoots over so close that he's practically in Gil's lap. When Gil growls at the scent of Beta, of Dani, that's filling the car, Malcolm decides _fuck it_ and climbs the rest of the way onto Gil's lap, letting the man cradle him like a child. Gil's arms instinctively wrap around Malcolm, loosening their grip only to lower the window beside them. Dani obviously notices and follows suit, using the controls to put down all of the windows in the car. It's far too chilly out for that, but it makes Dani's scent a little less noticeable, though Gil keeps throwing warning looks her way as they drive.

They're still about ten minutes out when Malcolm's heat starts building and swelling inside of him. He tries to ignore it at first, but within minutes it feels like his blood is starting to boil and he _needs_ Gil if he's going to survive. He starts to rock his hips, just a little, just to ease the ache that's growing inside of him, but Gil's body reacts to the movement immediately and Malcolm can feel him getting hard beneath him.

The sudden spike in pheromones must be overwhelming, because even Dani, with her inferior scent receptors, lets out a small groan and tightens her grip on the steering wheel. Gil clearly takes the sound as someone encroaching on his territory, his head whipping towards her, snarling and baring his teeth, and if he didn't currently have a lapful of Omega, he likely would have attacked.

"Fuck. Gil. Stop." Malcolm breathes out, trying to keep his Alpha from doing something he'll regret later. With a gentle tug, he pulls Gil's face back to his, sealing their lips together and licking his way into Gil's mouth.

The taste of Gil on his tongue, the smell of the possessiveness that's absolutely pouring off of him, the feel of his hard cock beneath him, it's all sending Malcolm spinning into a frenzy. Added to that, the smell of Dani's arousal amplifies his own, and soon he's rock hard and aching in his pants, the feel of slick and Gil's last load of come dripping from his well-stretched hole only serving to turn him on even more.

"Oh God," he cries, "Alpha, please."

While he sure as hell never wanted to drag Dani into any of this, she's already seen Malcolm impaled on Gil's dick, so he figures what's another embarrassment. He makes a mental note to buy her something very pretty and very expensive when this is all over as he fumbles for Gil's hand and slips it beneath the blanket, guiding it to his throbbing cock. Gil doesn't hesitate, tugging Malcolm's sweats down enough that he can wrap a hand around him and start to stroke.

Dani's whispered, "Jesus," from the front seat is met with a sudden increase of speed, and Malcolm's sure she's driving well above what would be considered safe in order to get them home even faster. He can smell how wet she is, but a quick peek in her direction shows that she's keeping her eyes resolutely on the road in front of her, white-knuckling the steering wheel as she tries to avoid the Alpha's ire.

Malcolm quickly loses himself in the feel of Gil's hand on his cock and tongue in his mouth, and is surprised when they come to a stop and Dani jumps out of the car like it's on fire, taking heaving gasps of air just outside the door. He breaks the kiss and looks out to find that they're in front of Gil's place, a warm tingle shooting through his body at the idea of Gil claiming him in his own home.

Malcolm cries out as Gil's hand disappears from his cock, but then Gil is handing Malcolm the box of toys to hold before he opens the door and pushes to his feet, holding Malcolm in a bridal carry as if he weighs nothing at all, damn near running for the front door. He looks over Gil's shoulder to find Dani shaking her head with a bemused smile on her face, lit up by the headlights as she paces in front of the car. But then they're making their way through the entrance, moving quickly as the sound of the door slamming shut chases them down the hall.

Gil lowers him gently to the couch as soon as they hit the living room, tossing the toy box on the floor and throwing open the blanket that's wrapped tightly around Malcolm and looking down at him like he's going to devour him. The sudden rush of blood to Malcolm's cock leaves him lightheaded as Gil climbs on top of him, rubbing his face against Malcolm's and sliding a hand beneath his t-shirt, touching every bit of Malcolm he can reach.

"You smell like her," Gil growls as he continues to scent Malcolm, licking a broad stripe up the length of his throat and then rubbing his face against him to transfer as much scent as he possibly can. He pushes Malcolm's shirt up and over his head, then, with a look of anger at his sweatpants, yanks them and his sneakers off and tosses them to the side, leaving Malcolm completely bared to him on the couch.

"Make me smell like you," Malcolm begs, dropping one of his legs off the couch to leave himself open and dripping wet under the man's scrutiny.

Gil doesn't waste time stripping down, only taking enough time to unbutton and unzip his pants to pull his leaking cock out before he's back on Malcolm, lips crashing together as Gil grabs a throw pillow and shoves it under Malcolm's hips.

When the head of Gil's cock runs over his hole but stops short of pushing in, Malcolm nearly screams in frustration.

"Are you hurt, kid?" Gil grits out through clenched teeth, making a visible effort to hold himself back from just slamming in. "Don't lie to me."

The last is an order, and Malcolm couldn't disobey if he wanted to. Which he does. He wants Gil to fuck him hard and stake his claim, and he knows that he'll hold back if Malcolm is hurt.

"Just a little sore," Malcolm confesses, "but please, I need it hard. I need to feel you, to feel that I'm yours."

"Baby," Gil groans as he slides into Malcolm's body in one smooth motion, far more gently than either of them want, but still somehow exactly what they need, "you're mine. Always."

Gil keeps a steady pace, balls slapping against Malcolm with every thrust of his hips. He hikes Malcolm's legs up to his shoulders so he can pump in deeper, eventually dropping one of his own feet to the floor, planting it on the ground for better leverage. 

Wasting no time, Gil reaches down and grabs Malcolm's cock, jacking him off with a nearly single-minded focus while his hips move on autopilot, clearly intent on getting them knotted and tied together as quickly as possible. Malcolm knows he needs to stake his claim again, after everything they've just been through, and understands the urgency. 

The low tingling at the base of his spine tells Malcolm that he's getting close, but when he looks up at Gil, he can tell his Alpha is nowhere near where he needs to be; his knot hasn't even started to inflate. Trying to help him along, Malcolm bears down and clenches his muscles, but it just seems to make Gil pump harder, chasing something that is painfully eluding him. 

"Gil," Malcolm asks, reaching down to halt the hand that's striping his cock. "What do you need?" All Malcolm gets in response is a low grunt, Gil's hips still snapping back and forth, frustration mounting.

Though Gil may not have given an answer, it was enough for Malcolm to feel the way his Alpha's cock twitched when Malcolm spoke, and he realizes that, perhaps, they share an affinity for one another's voices.

"Oh God, Alpha you feel so good in me," Malcolm says, keeping himself from drifting too far into the sensation, staying completely present for Gil. "I can feel you so deep inside of me,"

One of Gil's hands tightens on his hip while the other resumes stroking Malcolm's cock, his eyes lighting up as Malcolm speaks, his pupils blowing so wide that Malcolm can't make out any of the warm brown that usually gazes back at him.

"Am I being a good Omega for you?" Malcolm asks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and reaching a hand down between his legs and running his finger along his rim feeling where Gil's cock is spearing into him.

"So good for me, baby. My perfect little Omega," Gil moans, and Malcolm can feel the Alpha's knot inflating as it brushes against his fingers and starts to tug at his rim.

Malcolm groans obscenely at being called Gil's perfect little Omega, sliding his hand from his rim to give his balls a rough tug to keep himself from popping off at the praise.

"Wanna be good for you," he pants heavily, eyes slammed shut as he tries to hold back his orgasm. "Wanna be yours. Forever." He's having trouble speaking now, so turned on his cock is flushed purple and leaking. Gil's hand hasn't stopped moving over him and he knows he's not going to be able to hold back much longer. 

"Yes," Gil grunts, his knot catching on Malcolm's rim enough that he knows Gil is going to be buried inside him soon, will be filling him with his seed.

"Fill me," Malcolm practically begs. "Put a baby in me."

It's not something that he meant to say. It just sort of...slips out, but it has an immediate effect on them both. Malcolm sprays all over Gil's hand and his own stomach and chest, shooting hard enough that he ends up with come on his chin. Gil's final thrust is so hard that it slides Malcolm up the couch as the Alpha lets out a growl that Malcolm is sure the neighbours can hear, coating Malcolm's insides with load after load of hot come.

Before Gil drops down on top of Malcolm, he hastily strips his turtleneck off and tosses it over the back of the couch, baring his torso, and Malcolm's hands immediately find their way over his abs and up his chest, rounding to his back as Gil lowers himself. He supports some of his weight on his forearms while still letting their bodies connect as much as possible, hips still occasionally thrusting as his come is released into Malcolm's hot body.

"I want you in my bed next," Gil says, voice pitched low with desire. "I want it to smell like you. Like us."

A shiver of pleasure runs through Malcolm's body at the thought. Nesting in Gil's bed is somehow more intimate than doing it in his own. More real. Like this isn't just a one time thing. 

Like Gil plans to keep him. 

Malcolm clamps down on Gil, drawing a groan from both of them as Gil's cock twitches inside of him. Malcolm closes his eyes and focuses his attention on the feeling of Gil — inside his body, where their skin is touching, the warm press of his lips as they travel over Malcolm's neck and shoulders — as they wait for Gil's knot to go down. With his eyes closed, it's like his sense of smell increases tenfold and he can smell his lover all around him, the deep scents of leather and sandalwood surrounding him and seeping into every pore, filling his lungs, and wrapping him in its warmth. It feels like home. 

The last of the fear and anxiety that had followed him from the confrontation at his apartment dissipates as he sinks into the feeling, his entire body going lax beneath Gil.

Gil's kisses turn languid, lingering longer with each press of his lips, and Malcolm realizes that both of them are struggling to stay awake now that the adrenaline has faded and the lust sated. Gil's weight gradually sinks onto him as the man begins to drift off, so when Gil finally slips free of his tender ass, Malcolm whispers in his ear, "Take me to bed, Alpha?"

Gil shakes himself at the words and hauls his weight off of Malcolm with a sheepish smile. "Sorry, kid."

Malcolm pushes himself up and kisses Gil before he can pull completely away, and then flops back onto the couch bonelessly. "I don't mind," he says honestly.

Gil pushes himself to his feet and tucks himself back into his pants, doing up the zip but leaving the button undone, before bending down to gather Malcolm and his blanket — come-soaked and reeking of sex — into his arms. Malcolm throws his arms around Gil's neck and closes his eyes as Gil carries him upstairs to his bedroom, only opening them again as they cross the threshold. 

Gil and Jackie's bedroom had generally been off limits growing up. Not that it was an expressly stated rule; there were surprisingly few of those in the Arroyo household when he was a kid. But it was understood that the bedroom was Gil and Jackie's private space, and Malcolm only went in when one of them was in there — helping Jackie to pick which necklace to wear with her outfit, or sitting on the bed and watching Gil as he fumbled with his tie in the mirror on the back of the door.

But the bedroom has been Gil's alone for a couple of years now, most traces of Jackie having slowly been removed, feminine touches replaced with decor more to Gil's taste, bit by bit, as he keeps her memory, but lets go of her possessions. 

As Gil pulls back the covers and tenderly lays him down on the bed with a gentle kiss to his forehead, Malcolm starts to wonder if, just maybe, it could become _their_ bedroom someday. He reluctantly lets go of Gil long enough that he can strip down, tossing his slacks and underwear in the hamper next to the closet, but finds himself reaching out for his Alpha before he's even returned to the bed. Gil huffs out a laugh, breath skimming over Malcolm's hair as his arms and legs wind around Gil's body while he tries to settle into the bed.

"How are you feeling, baby?" Gil asks once they're both lying comfortably, Malcolm practically on top of him, touching as much as they possibly can. "Do you need to get off again? Need me inside of you again?"

Malcolm notices Gil smother back a yawn and realizes that he's just as worn out as Gil looks. Apparently being woken up in the middle of the night by a homicidal maniac, in the middle of an unexpected heat, is more draining than one might expect.

"I think I'm okay for a bit," he says into Gil's chest. "As long as you don't leave." He's relatively certain that he'll die if Gil is more than a few feet away for more than a few seconds. He'd hate himself for being so needy if he had the energy for it.

"I'm not going anywhere, kid. I promise." 

Malcolm wants to say so many things. To tell Gil he loves him, to thank him — for taking care of him through this heat, for saving his life tonight, for _always_ being there — but Malcolm falls asleep before his mouth can form the words, feeling safe and at home in Gil's arms.


	9. Chapter 9

When he wakes, the sun is high in the sky, blazing through the open curtains of Gil's bedroom, and he smiles as he remembers that he's in Gil's bed.

"Morning, sleepy head," Gil says, running a hand through Malcolm's hair. 

"Mmmm," Malcolm says, burying his face near Gil's armpit and breathing in his scent, smelling just how content the man really feels. 

"Babe, I didn't want to get up while you were sleeping, but my phone is downstairs and I need to check in with the team." Gil's voice is quiet, but intent. "Are you okay if I run downstairs and get my phone, and maybe something to eat?" 

Taking stock of his body, Malcolm finds he's surprisingly okay. The yearning to have Gil inside of him is still there, but it doesn't feel quite so severe now. It feels like maybe his heat is coming to an end, the fever having finally broke.

The thought of not being right next to him, though, is more than he can bear. His arms unconsciously tighten around him, but he forces himself to release the hold as soon as he notices. "Is it okay if—" Malcolm starts, but cuts himself off when he realizes how ridiculous he sounds.

"What do you need, Bright?" Gil asks so sincerely that Malcolm feels like it's okay to ask.

"Can I come with you?" he whispers, and holds his breath as he waits for Gil's answer.

Gil tugs him up so that they're eye level, decidedly unaware that the way he's manhandling Malcolm's body is only serving to kick the lust up a few notches, and he says "Of course, kid. Whatever you need, all you have to do is ask."

Malcolm leans in and kisses him lightly, on the lips and then the tip of his nose. He smiles as he says, "I need you. I also need to pee."

Gil's booming laugh fills the room, the sound bringing a smile to Malcolm's face. They climb their way out of bed together, heading into the bathroom hand in hand, where they alternate using the toilet and brushing their teeth, Gil making sure that he's never more than a few steps from Malcolm. When they're finished, Gil throws an arm around Malcolm's shoulder and leads him back to the bedroom, pulling a pair of sweatpants and a pair of flannel pyjama bottoms from the bottom drawer of his dresser. He hands the pyjama pants to Malcolm and quickly pulls the sweats on himself. 

Malcolm knows they're going to be quite a bit too big for him, but the idea of wearing Gil's clothes pleases him to no end and he's quick to slide them on, pulling the drawstring tight and giggling as they still barely stay on his hips, the length pooling around his feet.

"Well," Gil chuckles, looping his arm around Malcolm once again and leading him to the door. "It's not like you're gonna have 'em on very long."

The words have him getting hard in his pants before they've even left the bedroom and he rethinks whether or not he needs Gil to fuck him before they go downstairs. But Gil is leading him out of the room and down the hall before he can drop to his knees and present for the man, so he does his best to focus on anything but the idea of Gil's cock spearing into his body.

A quick stop in the living room to grab Gil's phone from the table, and then Gil is leading them into the cozy kitchen where Malcolm spent so much of his childhood.

"You can take a seat at the table, if you want," Gil offers, but clearly notices Malcolm's distress at the idea, whether from his scent or the way his face falls, he's not sure, and hastily adds, "or you can help me cook."

It turns out Malcolm does less 'helping' and more 'getting in the way', but Gil doesn't seem to mind in the slightest as he works around the him, getting the pancake batter mixed and on the griddle while Malcolm is constantly underfoot, trying to press himself against the man's side.

Once the pancakes are cooked and on the table, along with butter and syrup and a plate to share, Gil takes a seat and pulls Malcolm onto his lap with an amused look that says he knows that's exactly what he wanted.

He's not wrong.

"Call Powell for me," Gil says, passing Malcolm his phone while he loops one arm around his back so he can use both hands to cut the pancakes into bite sized pieces and drench them in butter and syrup.

Malcolm puts the phone on speaker right away so that when Dani picks up, they can both hear the smirk in her voice as she says, "Afternoon, boys."

It's only at that greeting that Malcolm notices it's already after 2:00. He's honestly shocked. He's probably slept more in the last two days than he had in the three weeks prior. But Gil's voice breaks into that train of thought before he can contemplate it further. 

"Dani, I owe you an apology," Gil says sincerely, and though Malcolm can feel the guilt radiating off of him, can smell it in the sharp turn his scent takes, it doesn't hit him quite as hard as it did that morning. "And a debt of gratitude that I'm not sure I can ever repay."

Malcolm places the phone on the table and wraps his arms around Gil's neck, comforting him as best he can. Gil's emotions are still affecting Malcolm, making his stomach churn and his heart race, but since he no longer feels like he's suffocating, he's able to keep his wits about him and does what he can to calm Gil down.

"It's fine boss," Dani's voice floats through the speaker and Malcolm can tell she really means it. "No apologies or thanks needed." She pauses, a beat of dead air passing through the phone before she adds, "And after getting a whiff of Bright, I can understand how you were maybe a little possessive."

Malcolm flushes at the statement, heat rising to his cheeks as he drops his head in embarrassment, but Gil just drags his fingers up and down Malcolm's back, assuring him with the motion that everything is fine.

"Anyways," Dani says, clearing her throat, "you guys doing okay? Is there anything you need? I'm guessing you weren't exactly set up for getting through a heat at your place."

"We're fine," Gil says, and Malcolm can feel him relax, knowing that Dani isn't upset with how last night played out. "Were you able to determine what the hell happened and who the intruder was?"

There's a pause before Dani answers and Malcolm would swear it somehow feels so charged that he can feel the crackle of electricity over his skin. Before she even speaks, Malcolm knows that it's not going to be good news.

"His name is Chester Wyman. We don't have definitive evidence yet, but it looks like he's the guy we've been looking for." Dani seems to be weighing her words, carefully choosing what to say and what to omit.

"How the hell did he end up at Malcolm's apartment?" Gil's grip tightens around Malcolm's waist protectively. 

Another pause before Dani answers, and Malcolm braces himself for the worst.

"Remember that online forum we were looking into?" Dani asks but doesn't bother waiting for a response before pressing on, "Wyman was part of the same chat group as Oliver Fernsby. As far as we can tell, Wyman was targeting Omegas that the other members of the group were bitching about. We don't know at this point if the other members were involved and knew what he was doing, or if Wyman was acting on his own."

"So, what?" Gil asks, "Oliver Fernsby goes online and complains about Christian Palmer, so Wyman goes out and murders him?"

It makes sense, Malcolm thinks. If Chester Wyman is a mission oriented killer, this online group would not only feed his obvious hatred of Omegas, it would also basically provide him with an ever growing kill list. Unfortunately, with that realization, Malcolm has a clear understanding of exactly where this conversation is going, and knows without a shadow of a doubt that Gil is about to lose his shit.

As Dani confirms Gil's supposition, informing them that one of the persons of interest from each of the murders they've been looking into has been found to be a member of the chat group, Malcolm leans in and whispers in Gil's ear, "I'm hungry, Alpha. Will you feed me? Please?"

Gil's attention is immediately drawn to Malcolm. He squeezes his hip and smiles warmly at him while he uses his free hand to spear a piece of pancake on the fork. With a warmth in his eyes that Malcolm would love to lose himself in, Gil brings the fork to Malcolm's mouth.

Malcolm wraps his lips over the morsel of food, pulling it off the fork and licking the syrup from his lips before chewing and swallowing it down. The buttery syrup spreads thick over his tongue and down his throat, and he's surprised to find he's actually a little hungry. More importantly, though, he can tell that Gil's focus is divided between him and Dani, and he intends to keep it that way.

"How the hell did Wyman end up at Malcolm's apartment? Did he know Major Crimes was looking into him?" Gil asks while he stabs at another piece of pancake to bring to Malcolm's mouth.

Malcolm eats the pancake but also brings a hand up to take the fork from Gil, quickly spearing another piece and bringing it to Gil's lips. 

"Uh, actually—" Dani says quietly, hesitation coming through loud and clear. 

Malcolm leans in and licks the syrup from Gil's lips, clearly startling the man, but it doesn't stop him from opening his lips to Malcolm's probing tongue.

"Officer Breen was also a member of the chat group," Dani grits out. "We have transcripts of him talking about Malcolm online after our visit to the crime scene."

Gil's head whips to the phone as he shouts, "What?!?"

Malcolm can feel that Gil is just barely managing to stay seated, firm muscles tensing beneath him. He wraps his arms tighter around Gil's neck and whispers in his ear, "It's okay, Gil. I'm safe now. You saved me."

Dani stays blessedly quiet, presumably knowing that Malcolm is doing his best to talk him down. But even with all of Malcolm's reassurances, with his calming pheromones flooding the room, Gil's grip is still bruising on Malcolm's hip and he's vibrating with rage.

"I'm gonna kill him," Gil growls, and Malcolm can tell that, in the moment, Gil means it. If Officer Breen was anywhere around right now, Gil would kill him.

Even though he's not feeling things as keenly as he had been just last night, the rage and anger pouring from Gil is slowly and painfully seeping into Malcolm and he knows that things are going to spiral quickly if he doesn't act fast.

"Gil, we've already opened an investigation into Officer Breen, and he's been suspended for conduct unbecoming, pending the results," Dani says quietly, but Malcolm can tell she's furious about the situation, even if she's trying to stay calm for Gil's sake. "You need to let us handle this."

Malcolm feels the growl building in Gil's chest before he even hears it, but Dani — brilliant and wonderful Dani — says the one thing that might actually keep Gil from tipping over the edge.

"Malcolm needs you right now."

She's not wrong. He really does need his Alpha. In every way imaginable.

He reaches out and ends the call, mentally apologizing to Dani for the abrupt end to the conversation, but he knows she'll understand. 

With Gil's laboured breaths as the only sound in the room, Malcolm slides off of his lap and onto his knees between Gil's spread thighs, rubbing the palms of his hands up and down Gil's legs. 

"You saved me," Malcolm says, looking up through hooded eyelids, "now show me I'm yours." He moves slowly, nuzzling at Gil's cock through his sweatpants for several minutes, letting his Alpha make the mental switch from anger to lust, waiting until the acrid tang of his rage has started to fade into his usual soft and earthy notes before he makes a move for his waistband, but Gil's hands wrap softly around his wrists, keeping him from reaching his prize.

He looks up with a frown, but Gil looks down at him with a surprising tenderness, considering how worked up he'd been only a moment ago, and brings each wrist to his lips, one at a time, dropping gentle kisses on Malcolm's pulse points.

"Let me take you to bed," Gil says. It's most definitely a request, not a command, but Malcolm can tell that, for whatever reason, it means an awful lot to him that Malcolm says yes. 

He places a quick kiss to Gil's thigh before getting to his feet. "Of course," he says quietly.

Gil's grip of his wrists releases, his right hand letting go entirely while his left slides down and intertwines the fingers of their hands. They walk side by side back to the bedroom, and somehow the journey feels weighted to Malcolm, and he can sense that things are about to change forever.

When they get to the bedroom, Malcolm waits for Gil to make the first move, watching closely as he strips his pants off, letting them drop to the floor and stepping out of them before pulling the drawstrings loose on Malcolm's pants and helping him to step out of them.

"Bright, I love you so much," Gil says, bringing his hands up to Malcolm's face. "Will you let me show you how much?"

As if Bright would ever say no.

"Yes."

"Present for me, city boy," Gil says quietly, and there's so damn much love in nickname that Malcolm's stomach is suddenly aflutter, a faint blush sweeping over his cheeks. He drops his head to try to hide his face, but Gil reaches out and runs a hand down his arm until their hands are joined, giving a light squeeze as he asks, "Okay?"

"Better than okay," Malcolm says, raising his eyes to meet Gil's.

It's almost inconceivable to Malcolm that someone could look at him the way that Gil is looking at him right now. Like he's something precious and loved. Like he's _worth_ something. It steals his breath away to see Gil's feelings written so plainly on his face and to know that it's all for him.

Following a light press to Gil's hand, Malcolm lets their fingers trail apart and turns to the bed, settling himself on knees and forearms, head lowered and ass up, ready for his Alpha to mount. As soon as he's in position, his body's primal urge to mate takes over and slick begins to build and drip from his exposed hole as the heat swells and takes him over once again. 

He feels so exposed like this, bared and open for his Alpha, and the feeling goes straight to his cock, leaving him aching for Gil's hands on his body. He doesn't even fight the needy moan that begins to spill from his lips and forms into senseless pleas to fill him completely.

If Malcolm had ever questioned how Gil feels about the sight of him dripping wet and crying out for his Alpha, the low growl that issues from deep in the Alpha's chest, growing louder by the minute, would be answer enough. Malcolm shifts himself ever so slightly to look over at Gil — cock standing flushed and hard, pupils blown wide, tongue darting over his lips like he's ready to devour Malcolm — and the arousal slams into him so intensely that a rush of slick gushes out of him, sliding hot and wet down his thigh. 

It's like a starting flag for Gil and he finally stalks forward, cock bobbing proudly in front of him as he crawls on the mattress behind Malcolm with a fiery determination. Malcolm drops his head to the bed and fists the sheets, feeling the anticipation so keenly that he can barely breathe. 

Once he's settled behind Malcolm, Gil slides the length of his cock up and down Malcolm's crack to coat it in heat slick before he pushes into the twitching hole in one smooth slide, Malcolm's body eagerly taking his Alpha's impressive cock. They both groan as Gil begins languidly thrusting his hips, spending a few minutes enjoying the slide of their bodies without truly chasing his release. By the time his hips start moving faster, Malcolm is ready to be pounded into the mattress, but instead of speeding up like he wants, Gil slows his pace until he's barely moving at all.

"Gil, please," Malcolm begs.

"Come here, baby," Gil responds, pulling Malcolm back so he's fully seated on Gil's cock, but then keeps tugging him upright until his back is flush against Gil's chest. 

It's oddly vulnerable like this, on his knees with his legs splayed open, impaled on Gil's dick, his body at the mercy of the man behind, beneath, and inside of him. He finds he likes it an awful lot.

Gil's hand drifts down his body to grip his cock, stroking slowly as he says, "I don't want to spend another day without you, Bright." His hand doesn't stop moving as he speaks, occasionally dropping to stroke his balls, sometimes teasing at the head, but continuously providing friction to his aching cock.

"Yes," Bright whispers, pumping up into Gil's fist, praying that he's right as to where this is going.

"I want the world to know you're mine," Gil snaps his hips on the last word, a bark of possessiveness ringing loudly in the room.

"Oh God, yes," Malcolm cries, so hard he's sure he's about to burst. 

"I want to bond you, breed you, start a family," Gil's mouth teases at his throat, whiskers scraping over his skin. "Do you want that, kid?"

"Fuck, Gil, I've never wanted anything more."

Gil's hips roll slow and steady, fucking up into him as he whispers "Last chance," dragging his lips along Malcolm's neck, sucking, licking, and biting his way down to his destination.

While Malcolm appreciates Gil's concern, it's entirely unnecessary. Not only has he never wanted something so badly as he wants this, he's never felt more sure about something in his life being _right_. Ever since he was a boy, his world has been a mess of questions and doubts, but this, here, with Gil? There's not a single doubt that this is the answer he's been searching for.

"I love you, Gil," Malcolm brings a hand up and drags his fingers through Gil's hair, gently urging him to set his mouth on the bonding gland. "I want to be yours. Forever."

Their movements are gentle and slow, Gil rolling his hips up and into Bright, and Malcolm bouncing ever so slightly in his lap, but Gil keeps his hand splayed flat over Malcolm's stomach, ensuring that the motion stays minimal.

"I'm gonna take care of you, Malcolm. Everything that you need, everything I can give you, I will. I promise," Gil says, and Malcolm knows it's more than just words. It's a vow. And it means so much more to him than the words that they'll eventually exchange in front of their family and friends.

Before he can tell Gil that he already knows that, before he can remind him that he's been giving him everything he needs since the Alpha walked through his front door over 20 years ago and saved him from the monster that was hiding in his home, Gil's teeth find their way to the sensitive skin at the base of his neck and bite down. 

Hard.

It's like nothing he's ever felt, nothing that words could ever describe. The bonding physiology textbooks, the bodice-ripper romance novels, the sonnets of the world's greatest poets — none of them could have possibly prepared him for how it feels as the bond snaps into place.

It's as if he somehow didn't realize that he'd been living his entire life with every bone in his body shattered, every muscle torn and shredded, and then suddenly...he's been perfectly mended. Made whole.

A frisson of electricity shoots through him, starting from the bite mark and tearing through his body, down every vertebrae of his spine and up into every inch of his brain. It takes over his entire being.

He doesn't realize he's come, doesn't feel Gil's knot inflate and bury inside of him, doesn't feel the tears of joy that stream down his face. None of that matters. All that matters is that he belongs to Gil now.

When awareness finally finds him once again, his head is tossed back on Gil's shoulder, with Gil's arms wrapped tightly around his torso, one over his chest and the other around his waist, holding him upright and surrounding him with love. The Alpha's lips — _his_ Alpha's lips — are skimming over the bite, soothing the sting as his tongue occasionally darts out to swipe over the tender skin.

He can feel Gil panting heavily, chest heaving where it's pressed up against Malcolm's back and he wonders if it feels the same for Gil as it does for him. If Gil feels as exquisite as he does. Before he even has a chance to ask, before he can form his jumbled thoughts into something cohesive, Gil begins to speak.

"Jesus, kid, I love you," Gil says reverently, planting a series of kisses along his neck and shoulder. "Are you okay?"

It takes a minute for him to answer, but Gil is patient, as always. He holds him and kisses him and Malcolm can feel his love through their bond like a second pulse that pervades his body. "I'm perfect," he finally sighs, turning his head and nudging at Gil until their lips finally meet. It's their first kiss as a bonded pair and it's like sinking into a hot bath, his entire body falling into it.

They stay like that the entire time that Gil is locked inside of Malcolm, wrapped up together in stillness and adoration. And even when Gil softens and slips from Malcolm's body, they still don't move. 

"Baby, do you need anything?" Gil eventually whispers, tongue darting out to lick the shell of his ear.

And the swipe of his tongue immediately ignites the fire in him once again.

Malcolm rocks his hips against Gil's softened cock, prompting Gil to bite down on his ear, oversensitive and nowhere near ready for another round.

"Need you," Malcolm groans and Gil's hand immediately drops down to Malcolm's cock, stroking hard before Malcolm can even ask for what he wants. It's good, but it's not enough. "Need you in me."

"Fuck, city boy, I wish I could but I'm gonna need a little bit of time," the anguish in Gil's voice is clear and Malcolm can tell he's disappointed in himself for not being able to give Malcolm what he needs.

"It's okay." It's not okay. He feels like he's going to explode if he doesn't get something shoved inside him. Now. But the last thing he wants is to make Gil feel guilty. "Just...keep going."

Gil continues to work him with his hand for a moment, but Malcolm writhes on his lap searching for more friction, crying out as the emptiness inside of him spreads like a cancer.

"Baby, here's what we're gonna do," Gil says, his voice level in the way that only happens when he's trying to keep himself calm. "You're gonna stay here, on this bed. And you're gonna fuck yourself on your fingers for me. As hard as you can."

The keening cry that Malcolm chokes out is cut off as Gil's mouth finds his, wasting no time in shoving his tongue past Malcolm's lips as his hand strokes harder and faster.

"I want to hear you cry out for me," his tone is seeping into Alpha territory, bordering on an order, but not quite there. Not yet. Even still, it jolts through Malcolm's body. "I'm going to run downstairs and get your toys," Gil slides his other hand down to tug hard at Malcolm's balls, cutting off the objection before Malcolm can even voice it. "And when I come back, I want to see you riding your fingers, getting yourself loose and ready for me."

And Jesus, Gil could tell Malcolm to do anything at this point and he'd do it without a second thought. This willingness to fully submit and surrender to his Alpha's will would terrify him if it wasn't for the fact that it's Gil, and he knows that Gil would _never_ do anything to hurt him.

"Can you do that for me, baby? Can you be good for me?"

"For you," Malcolm thrusts into Gil's hand, almost completely lost to the pleasure. "Everything for you."

Malcolm whimpers when Gil releases his hold on him, helping him to lean forward before he climbs off the bed entirely. Malcolm is at a loss for a moment, consumed by the fever and suddenly alone, but Gil stays at his side, stroking a hand over his back.

"Okay Bright, however is comfortable for you is fine," his Alpha's voice is soothing and arousing in equal measure and helps to ground him as he gets his bearings. Gil's hand stays warm on his back as Malcolm crawls forward, closer to the headboard, providing the encouragement that he needs. When he angles himself so that he can kneel on the bed with one arm on the top of the headboard, Gil hums appreciatively. "Oh yeah, that's perfect. Show me your body, kid. Show me how much you want it."

Malcolm reaches his right hand back to his ass, sliding one finger inside of himself with a quiet exhale, fingering himself slowly while Gil watches on. As much as he despises the idea of Gil leaving him, even just for a minute, touching himself like this for Gil is electrifying in a way he wouldn't have guessed. He adds a second finger almost immediately, still stretched open from Gil's cock, and begins to moan and rock as his fingers move inside of him. It's nowhere near enough — his fingers aren't long enough or thick enough to truly stimulate himself — but knowing that he's following Gil's directions helps to keep him going.

"That's good, kid. Just like that." Gil's eyes are locked on the spot where Malcolm's fingers are breaching his body, all signs indicating that he wants to dive right in and take over. Instead, he backs away and turns to the door, looking over his shoulder as he leaves to say, "Make sure I can hear you, Bright."

Wanting to please his Alpha, Malcolm adds a third finger and groans as he finally feels the stretch, and then quickly adds a fourth and begins to fuck himself in earnest. He's distantly aware that his words are unintelligible, but he makes sure to keep moaning and calling out as he rides his hand, doing as his Alpha asked.

It feels as if Gil has only been gone for a second before he's climbing back on the bed behind Malcolm, settling the box of toys beside them on the mattress. "Fuck, Bright. You did so good for me." He kisses his way down Malcolm's spine, one vertebrae at a time until he gets to his tailbone. He pauses there, pulling Malcolm's fingers out of his hole, and replacing them immediately with one of the dildos from Malcolm's collection.

Malcolm doesn't see which one he chose, but he can feel it's one of the longer ones as it presses all the way inside of him until the base nudges up against his rim. Having something inside of him is good, but having Gil back in bed with him makes all the difference.

"Gil," Malcolm moans as the Alpha begins to thrust the dildo relentlessly in and out of his body, sliding his free hand around Malcolm's body to settle flat on his stomach, and Malcolm would swear he's trying to feel the toy moving inside of him. "Gil."

He doesn't even know what he's asking for, just knows he needs more. And it seems to be enough for Gil, because he shuffles himself on the bed so that he can keep fucking Malcolm while he drops his mouth to their new bonding mark, sucking and tonguing at the swollen skin.

"Nngh," Malcolm bucks back against Gil, the _pleasurepain_ flashing through his body to make his cock throb and leak. Gil's hand slides from his belly to wrap around his cock once again and within seconds Malcolm is coming with a shout.

"Perfect, Bright," Gil pulls his lips away from Malcolm's neck but shifts the heel of his hand to the base of the dildo, holding it inside of Malcolm's body and absently tracing patterns on the skin of his taint and balls. "How you feeling?"

Malcolm has both hands wrapped over the headboard, his head dipped down to his chest as he heaves in gasping breaths. He's good, he is, but honestly, he could keep going. 

"I think you have one more in you, what do you think?" Gil says, voice rough in a way that tells Malcolm he's ready for another round himself.

Malcolm nods and Gil moves to pull the dildo out of him, but Malcolm throws his hand back and stops him while it's still halfway in. "Can I have you both?" He's too turned on to be embarrassed about the request. When Gil fucked him with the prostate massager and the dildo the other day, it opened a whole new world for Malcolm. He wants to do it again. Wants more.

"You want this," Gil thrusts the dildo back inside of him, " _and_ me?"

"Yes," Malcolm sighs.

Gil doesn't waste any time, doesn't question if Malcolm is sure. He nudges a finger into Malcolm's hole alongside the dildo, moving them together and stretching the muscle so he'll be ready to take even more. A second finger follows the first and soon, Gil is pulling his fingers out and bumping the head of his cock against Malcolm's hungry hole.

"You ready for this, kid?" Gil growls, and Malcolm looks over his shoulder to see Gil stoking his own cock, eyes glued on Malcolm's ass once again. 

"Yes. Please."

Gil moves slowly to start, pushing his cock in next to the dildo that's buried to the hilt inside of him. By the time Gil bottoms out, Malcolm is letting out a high pitched cry, feeling so stretched out that he's not sure if he's going to survive it. And then Gil snaps his hips with a grunt, and the drag is like nothing he's ever felt, cutting off his cry as the air is punched from his lungs. Malcolm just holds tight to the headboard and lets Gil take control, and he does it perfectly, keeping the dildo deep inside of him while he pumps his cock in and out.

It's not meant to last long; Malcolm is overstimulated to start with and Gil's grunts and groans just spur him on. 

"Jesus. Fuck," Gil shouts, one hand holding the dildo in place and the other holding Malcolm's shoulder for better leverage. "You're so tight." Malcolm can only imagine how tight it must be for Gil, because he would swear it's so snug in his ass that he can feel every ridge of Gil's cock as it drags against his inner walls.

There's just barely enough room for Gil to move as it is, so when his knot starts to inflate, it's too much. But Gil seems to know before Malcolm can do more than suck in a sharp breath between his teeth and he quickly pulls the dildo out and drops it hard and heavy to the bed. Malcolm clenches down on Gil, pulling his knot into his gaping hole with ease, the muscles quickly constricting around Gil to hold him in place, and soon they're both coming with identical shouts.

Gil lays them down on the bed as soon as they've caught their breath enough to move, spooning Malcolm and whispering loving words in his ear, telling him what a good boy he is, but Malcolm is lost in the ether, floating on a wave of serotonin and oxytocin.

He loses himself in the realization that this is his life now. That he'll be spending all of his nights with Gil wrapped around him like this. That he is Gil's, and Gil is his.

"Forever," Malcolm whispers as he snuggles close to Gil.

"Forever," Gil echoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just an epilogue left to wrap things up for our boys. Thanks so much to everyone that's stuck with this story, it means the world to me ❤


	10. Epilogue

Malcolm and Gil spend the next two days locked in Gil's house, christening basically every surface in the house as they wait for Malcolm's heat to end. Although the burning need to mate subsides with every hour, they still can't keep their hands off one another, and don't even bother to try. By the end of their confinement, though, they spend more time holding each other closely than they do fucking like rabbits, and the contentment that wraps around Malcolm feels like something he'd like to get used to.

On the morning that they plan to go back to work, Malcolm calls Jessica to fill her in on the CliffsNotes version of everything that happened, including the fact that she's just gained a son in law. She takes it surprisingly well, especially once they promise her free rein on planning the bonding ceremony. After that, it's all they can do to get her off the phone so they're not late for work.

"I don't know that you really thought this through," Malcolm says as they walk out to Gil's car, hand-in-hand until Gil opens the door for Malcolm and lets him lower himself to the seat before shutting the door behind him.

Gil makes his way to the driver's seat and settles in, buckling up as he asks, "What exactly did I not think through?"

"You realize you've just bonded into all of the Whitly family drama, right?" Malcolm says with a smirk, reaching over unthinkingly to lay his hand over Gil's where it rests on the stick shift.

Gil shoots him a faux-concerned look and says, "I've clearly made a terrible mistake. Obviously I'm going to need to end things immediately." Gil's hand shifts to wrap around his, pulling it gently to his mouth and pressing a light kiss to his knuckles. 

"You joke now, but you realize that Doctor Martin Whitly, The Surgeon himself, is your father-in-law now?" Malcolm asks, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he waits for Gil's response. He doesn't doubt that Gil loves him — the last few days have proven that to him without a shadow of a doubt — but everything happened so quickly that he's not sure if Gil _really_ considered the consequences of what it meant to bond with him.

"Your father doesn't scare me, kid," Gil says as he releases Malcolm's hand and pulls away from the curb. "As a matter of fact, I'd like to start going with you, if you're consulting for cases. Present a united front."

Malcolm can tell that Gil is trying very hard to present the offer as a request, not an order, but there's an air of authority to his voice that Malcolm wants to obey regardless. And Malcolm gets it. Sending his mate alone into a locked room with another Alpha, even if that Alpha is family — though Malcolm knows Gil would argue as to whether or not Martin is truly family, anyway — would be incredibly difficult for Gil to accept. 

The thing is, Malcolm doesn't even _want_ to go without him. That need to prove himself — or maybe to punish himself, he's not really sure — by continuously subjecting himself to Martin's influence disappeared the minute that the bond with Gil snapped into place. If he requires Dr. Whitly's consultation on a case going forward, he's more than happy to have Gil accompany him.

And, if he's honest with himself, he kind of wants to show off his Alpha. To prove to his father that he didn't succeed in breaking him. That a strong, virile Alpha like Gil still wanted him.

But that's a consideration for another day.

For now, the drive to the precinct is quiet and calm, their hands joined on the stick shift, a sense of peace pervading the car. By the time Gil pulls to a stop in front of the precinct, Malcolm feels entirely centered and ready to get back to work.

As much as Malcolm would love to hold Gil's hand as they make their way through the station, they decided over breakfast that, as far as they can, they'll keep things professional at work. And so they walk side by side, the occasional brush of their elbows the only contact they allow themselves, making their way to the conference room where Dani and JT are already waiting for them.

The detectives are sitting on either side of the table at the head of the room, the case board empty and cleared of all of the crime scene photos that had been plastered over it the last time Malcolm had been in the room. When Dani looks up at their entrance, JT twists in his chair to look over as well, and Malcolm feels both of their gazes raking over him, searching for any clues that Malcolm might be displaying.

He allows himself to be analyzed as he makes his way around the table and takes a seat a couple chairs down from Dani, letting Gil sit on the same side as JT.

"You look happy," JT says as Malcolm turns to face the two detectives. 

"I am," Malcolm shrugs, stating a simple truth.

"It's kinda weird," JT squints at him, but Malcolm can see that he's actually quite pleased about this unexpected development. The pen that Dani throws at him bounces off his chest and lands between his hands on the table and he looks genuinely affronted as he says, "What? Dude doesn't really do happy!"

"He does now," Gil says firmly.

Dani and JT both look from Gil to Malcolm and back again and Malcolm sees the exact moment that Dani makes the connection.

"Did you guys bond?" she asks, but there's far more excitement than surprise in the question. She had first hand experience of just how close they'd gotten over the last few days, so the shock of them bonding when they hadn't even been courting a few days ago isn't as intense for her as it is for JT, whose eyebrows have practically hit his hairline.

Malcolm just smiles, absolutely delighted to be sharing the news with his team, but Gil speaks up, answering for them both. "Yes. We're bonded."

"Congratulations," Dani says earnestly looking from Malcolm to Gil with a smile that says she's genuinely happy for them both.

Though JT still looks a little stunned, he also offers his congratulations, leaning forward to shake both of their hands and wish them well.

"I know this is...unexpected," Gil says.

"Ya think?" JT mumbles

"But it's not going to change things here," Gil ignores JT's comment and continues on.

All four of them know that it's not entirely true. Bonding changes things. And though Gil and Malcolm may try to keep things professional, there's an attachment there now — physically, mentally and emotionally — that's going to inherently change them both. It will also change how they interact with one another, and everyone else, whether they want to admit it or not.

All four of them also know that they'll adjust to this new dynamic. Because they're a team. A family. 

It goes unspoken, but the small nods from each of them are confirmation that they'll make it through this and be closer for it.

"I'm happy for you, man," JT says to Malcolm, then turns to Gil with a mischievous grin, "don't know what _you_ were thinking, though. Kid's gonna eat you alive."

Gil rolls his eyes, but the quirk of his lips says he's fine with the lighthearted teasing, and they spend the next 15 minutes or so chatting and joking, discussing future plans (Dani and JT both cringe when Gil informs them that Jessica has full control of the ceremony), and generally celebrating the good news.

"Okay, we can raise a toast after work," Gil eventually says, pulling them back on track to deal with the fall out of their murder investigation. "Where are we at with Chester Wyman?" 

"It's been ruled a clean kill," Dani says, looking to Gil. "The chief still needs to talk with you, but no action will be taken against you for defending yourself and your Omega."

Malcolm blows out a relieved breath at that. While he knew that killing Wyman would fall under the Self Defense and Protection Act, it's still a relief to hear that Gil has been cleared of any wrongdoing.

"Looks like Wyman was acting alone. The other Alphas in the online group didn't know that he was using their gripes as a hit list." JT says, but the way his jaw is twitching makes Malcolm think there's more to the story than that. He arches an eyebrow at the detective and the man continues, his tone expressing how much the news bothers him. "A couple of the Alphas were upset that their words led to Wyman killing the Omegas. A couple were indifferent. one was quite pleased with himself. Said the filthy Omega had it coming and Wyman did the world a favour."

"Unfortunately, there's nothing we can charge that prick with, so he's just going to continue spewing his hate," Dani says, just as frustrated about the whole thing as JT is. 

"And Officer Breen?" Gil asks through gritted teeth.

"Has been relieved of duty," JT smiles, clearly pleased at the outcome of the investigation. "He was found in breach of his Code of Conduct agreement this morning and has been terminated, effective immediately."

"I think he's actually turning in his gun and badge right now," Dani adds, leaning back in her chair. "He won't be a problem after today."

"Good," Gil says, anger bleeding through the terse statement, and Malcolm can tell he's still furious with the man.

They continue discussing the ins and outs of the case, ensuring all the proper paperwork has been filled out and determining that they're able to close the file for good, when a commotion from the bull pen draws their attention. All four of them look up to see Officer Breen removing his personal items from his desk, shouting as he throws them into a box.

"This is fucking bullshit," he yells as he tosses a framed photo into the box with enough force that Malcolm is sure the glass must've shattered. "I didn't do shit. All I did was say what the rest of you don't have the balls to. Not my fault someone decided to do something about all the Omega whores that strut around like they own the place."

It happens so quickly that Malcolm doesn't even have time to react. Gil pushes himself to his feet so aggressively that his chair tips over behind him, and he's flying out of the room, a low growl emanating from deep in his chest. Fortunately, JT's reaction time is quicker than Malcolm's and the detective is chasing after Gil as Malcolm and Dani are scrambling to get to their feet.

By the time Malcolm runs out of the conference room, JT is standing off-center in front of Gil, one strong arm slung across his body to hold him back, his other hand tight on Gil's shoulder. Before Malcolm even gets there, he can hear the low tones of JT's voice, saying "Walk away, boss. He's not worth it."

Every cop in the room is on their feet, prepared to jump in if necessary, but the number of officers with their hands on the butt of their guns makes Malcolm nervous for Gil's safety and he promptly moves to stand between Officer Breen and his Alpha, drawing Gil's attention to himself in hopes that he can calm him enough that Dani can remove Breen from the building without incident.

"Gil, it's okay. I'm fine and he's leaving," Malcolm says, hands spread out between the two men as his gaze darts back and forth, keeping an eye on them both.

"Oh, look at the tough little Omega," Officer Breen spits. "What would have happened if an Alpha hadn't been there to save you the other night? Would you have been so tough then?"

"You mother fucker—" Gil lunges forward, but JT's grip on him just tightens, keeping him well restrained.

"Breen, get the hell out of here," Dani stands tall, making herself as intimidating as possible and forcefully pointing to the exit.

But Malcolm can tell Breen is indignant about losing his job to something so 'trivial' as a few discriminatory remarks and is not going to go quietly. He's proven right almost immediately.

"Don't tell me you're gonna side with the whore, Detective Powell," he sneers at Malcolm, his eyes tracking over him in disgust as he tries to bring some of the other Alphas and Betas in the room to his side. "You always had a level head on your shoulders. You're not gonna choose this filthy slag over a brother in blue, are you?"

Malcolm isn't sure if he's still just over receptive from his heat but he'd swear he can feel the pheromones that are flooding the room, Alpha and Beta alike, suffocating in their intensity. He's actually a little surprised how many of the officers in the room are angry about the disparaging comments that Breen is making about Omegas. Frankly, he's heard a lot worse over the years, but it actually sparks some hope in him for a change in how the world is beginning to view Omegas.

"Gil, please, let's just go," Malcolm tries, thinking if he can't de-escalate the situation he can at least remove Gil from the middle of it.

"You think you can tell an Alpha what to do?" Breen hisses at Malcolm and even goes so far as to spit on him, the glob of saliva hitting his jacket, just beside the lapel, and slowly dripping down.

He scrunches his nose, disgusted, but otherwise unfazed. It's hardly the first time he's been spit on or belittled for being an Omega, and there are more important things to deal with right now. Like the fact that JT's grip is slackening and, judging by his body language, the man is not only debating letting go of Gil, but is considering going after Breen himself.

"JT, don't," Malcolm says firmly, before he turns his attention back to Gil, "Alpha, please, let's go."

The bark of laughter that comes from Breen has no hint of humour. "Gonna listen to your bitch, Arroyo? Maybe Wyman should've taken you both out, one less castrated Alpha in the world."

Malcolm sees red, anger washing over him like a tidal wave. He doesn't even realize he's moved until Dani is pulling him back, yanking on his arms from behind, jerking him away from where Breen is laid flat out on the floor, the personal contents of his box spilled out around him.

Only then does he realize his hand is throbbing. 

It takes longer than he'd care to admit to make the connection.

The tension drains from his body as he becomes conscious of the fact that he just hit Breen hard enough to knock him out. Wide eyed with shock, he immediately looks to Gil, who is shrugging his way from JT's grip to get to Malcolm. 

"Bright, are you okay?" Gil brings his hands to either side of Malcolm's face, forcing him to look him in the eye.

"I'm sorry," Malcolm says, shocked at his own behavior. "I don't know what came over me."

"It's fine, kid," Gil whispers, throwing an arm over his shoulders and leading him to his office, leaving Dani, JT and a room full of officers and detectives to deal with the immediate fall out. "Sit here and don't move," Gil orders as he steers Malcolm to the sofa in his office, then turns to leave, pulling the door shut behind him. 

Malcolm props his elbows on his knees and drops his face into his hands, disappointed in himself for letting Breen get the best of him, knowing that he may have just jeopardized his consultancy with the NYPD. But the things Breen was saying about Gil slipped right under his skin, slicing through like razors.

Gil's gone for longer than Malcolm would have expected, and if he hadn't been ordered to stay put, Malcolm would most definitely have gone looking for him. As it stands, he waits impatiently for his Alpha's return, leg jumping as the minutes tick by. When Gil finally returns, immediately making his way to Malcolm's side, it's with an ice pack and a smirk. He pulls Malcolm's right hand to his lap and sets the ice pack against his knuckles, wincing at Malcolm's hiss.

"What's so funny?" Malcolm asks quietly, unsure where exactly he stands with Gil, both as his consultant and as his Omega.

"Breen woke up pretty quick, started squawking about pressing charges," Gil's lips quirk up even more, which serves to confuse Malcolm further, but Gil is quick to explain his good humour. "JT helpfully pointed out that admitting he was knocked on his ass by an Omega, on record, would make his day. He was pretty quick to change his story and hustle his ass out."

Malcolm breathes a sigh of relief at the realization that he's not going to be fired. He's about to ask Gil if he's angry with him for resorting to violence when he usually tries so hard to use his words to defuse any explosive situations he ends up in, when Gil chuckles. 

"Defending my honour, hmm?" Gil asks, bringing his free hand to the back of Malcolm's neck and running his fingers through the hair at the nape.

Malcolm blushes at hearing it put like that, but Gil's not exactly wrong. It bothered him more than he'd care to admit to hear Breen talk about Gil like that.

"I suppose it's better that it was me that hit him than you," Malcolm says slowly, thinking how terribly things could have gone if Gil would've gotten his hands on the man. "If one of us was going to risk losing their job, I'd rather it be me."

"Kid, I'd lose my job a thousand times over to keep you safe from jackasses like Breen and Wyman," Gil continues to run his fingers through Malcolm's hair, tracing idle patterns over his scalp. "But I guess you just proved that you don't need me to fight your battles for you."

Gil lifts the ice pack from Malcolm's hand, prodding gently at his knuckles to make sure that nothing is broken. It's tender, for sure, but a few flexes of his fist assures Malcolm that his hand is fine and he takes the ice from Gil's hand and tosses it on the table.

"I think we can safely assume that we're both willing and able to fight one another's battles," Malcolm says, wrapping Gil's hand in his. "But I can think of a few things I'd rather be doing instead."

"Bright," Gil lifts Malcolm's swollen knuckles to his lips and presses a gentle kiss to them, "we've been here less than an hour. We have work to do."

"That's totally what I meant," Malcolm smiles impishly at his Alpha — the love of his life and the man he's going to spend the rest of his days with, and, hopefully, start a family with — and gives his hand a squeeze, knowing they have all the time in the world for cuddles and kisses, for wild sex and nights on the town, for diapers and 3 am feedings. Right now, they have a job to focus on. Together. "Let's go solve a murder."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! And that's it!
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me and reading the whole thing. I hope you enjoyed it ❤


End file.
